AldoI was back in the hospital, though this time, I leaned against the wall of the break room. Arms crossed. Face probably a mask of stoic detachment.I was supposed to be meeting a vendor about the snack machine, but as yet, he’d failed to show. Irritation churned in my veins.The fluorescent ligh
LaylaNormally, the operating room was peace. Focus. Determination.Right now, it felt like chaos. The beeping machines. The overlapping voices barking instructions, calling out numbers. Metal instruments clattering against metal trays.And in the center of all the madness lay Aldo Marcello. Pale, u
AldoI can’t stop loving you. Can’t stop hoping. Layla’s voice drifted through my mind. Like a dream. And it must have been, because the real Layla never would have said something like that to me.Her face blurred in front of my eyes. I hate you for making me love you.Well, that was more like the L
LaylaGolden morning sunlight filtered through the kitchen windows, casting a glow on the woman and the little boy bent over the marble counters. Eli perched on his stool, his lower lip between his teeth as he watched Melissa Marcello expertly roll dough across the floured countertop.In the doorway
That was why he’d married me. Why he’d never mentioned the family business.“He was never meant to be its leader.” Melissa nodded. “As a child … he was so quiet. Serious, yes, but soft. Thoughtful. Caring. Kind. Intelligent. Just like Eli. When he—”She stopped, and when her gaze drifted sideways, l
LaylaAldo’s new recovery room was significantly more comfortable—and homey—than his room at the hospital had been. Expected, I suppose, for a man of his status. Still felt strange to me, as an ER doctor, to care for a patient from the comfort of his own home.“You’re getting spoiled.” I leaned over
AldoThe unceasing ache in my side was an ever-present reminder of how close I’d come to death. A reminder that, perhaps, I should have died—would have, without Layla’s influence.Now, returned and confined to my owner’s suite in the manor, the only thing keeping me sane was Layla’s presence.Night
I didn’t.I’d lost that right.So I stayed where I was, watching her. My broken heart shattering all over again, knowing that I was the cause of her pain. That I was the cause, and there was nothing I could do to fix it.Without warning, she turned. Sat in the chair beside my bed, and fixed me with
AldoThe Marcello estate hadn’t seen a night like this in far too long. Since Layla and I had wed on this same lawn—nearly a year ago now. How had it been so long? How had time passed so quickly?And more importantly: How had we been married for so many months, yet shared so few moments like this on
I was late to Eli Marcello’s party. But I was also on the hunt, and as a cop, one of those things definitely took precedent. Eli’s party would go on for another several hours. And he’d be ten for an entire year after that.But I’d found a clue, and I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to follow it.I was
One week since I’d given the order.One week since I’d unleashed the Marcello family on the streets of New York with orders to take no prisoners.One week since I’d declared war on the Rossetti family.I sat at the head of the long table, trying to force myself to eat.The rest of the table’s occupa
The estate bustled with movement: Marcello men arming themselves, strategizing, talking shit, waving proverbial fists at the enemy, posturing, preparing for war … All the things men did. But still, they awaited my command.I stood at the head of the table in the grand dining room, where a makeshift
Fear.Shit.“Where is he?” I demanded.Carlo jerked his head toward a nearby room. “The doctors are with him now. It was bad, Layla. The explosion took out half the building. We were lucky to get him out alive.”I nudged past him and into the room.Aldo lay on the hospital bed, his face pale, a deep
LaylaAldo had missed another dinner.Or, rather, he was in the process of missing it. I sat at the head of the long dining table, where he’d normally sit; for some reason it felt wrong to leave it vacant. Beside me, Eli pushed food around his plate with his fork, and on his other side, Vanessa lean
EthanI, once again, found myself at the precinct long after the rest of my desk-mates and cohorts had vacated for the night. I mean, the police precinct was never truly empty—it was New York City, so the place was always hopping—but the difference between day shift and night shift was, well. Night
EthanI got to the coffee shop far earlier than was necessary—close to an hour before Vanessa and I had decided to meet—and proceeded to sulk in the corner like a loser, downing coffee.I’d long since stopped smelling the fresh-baked goods layered behind the glass counter, and I was far too nervous
“But I’m funny and charming,” Ethan said, with a smile that was indeed quite charming. “It’s okay. I don’t blame you for not being able to resist.”I groaned, trying very hard not to smile myself. “This is the worst flirting I’ve ever seen.”“It’s not flirting!” Ethan protested, lifting his hands in