Chapter 1

On the surface, I'm the Blackthorn family's private doctor. But I was also Don Blackthorn's secret for five years. I thought I could win him over, but then, after sex one night, he told me, “Maybe you should find a good man and get married, too.” That’s when I knew. The one he really loved was his brother's widow.

The air was thick with sweat and expensive cologne.

Evan Blackthorn finished with a final, hard thrust, lingering to kiss my neck.

I was still catching my breath, watching in a daze as he rolled off me. The muscles of his back gleamed in the dim light.

He walked naked to the floor-to-ceiling window and lit a cigarette.

“I need a wife, Rachel.”

I didn’t say anything. I just sat up and reached for the black dress pooled on the floor.

It was the same routine for five years. After the pleasure, I was on my own. Get dressed, pretend we just finished talking business.

“A real Blackthorn wife,” he continued, not looking at me. “Someone who can stand by my side, host family dinners, give me an heir.”

Silence filled the room.

In my last life, those words would’ve sent a thrill through me. I would’ve wrapped my arms around him from behind and asked, full of hope, “Are you asking me to marry you?”

But now, I just calmly zipped up my dress.

I knew what was coming next.

“Maybe you should find a good man and get married, too.”

He smiled at me, and you couldn’t tell if he was joking or dead serious.

I nodded. Then I took the black key card from my purse and placed it gently on the table.

“I don’t think I’ll be needing this anymore,” I said, my voice even.

It was the key card to his private residence. A privilege I used to be proud of.

Evan’s brow furrowed instantly. For the first time, a flicker of real irritation crossed those cool, grey eyes.

He stubbed out his cigarette. “What the hell is this?”

“Exactly what it looks like,” I replied. “Your future wife won’t want another woman having free access to your bedroom.”

He let out a cold laugh, like I’d just told the world’s stupidest joke. “Are you throwing a tantrum? Knock it off, Rachel. You don’t get to be the one who ends this.”

I didn’t argue.

“Okay.” I turned and walked toward the door.

My compliance seemed to confuse him, turning his irritation into real anger and a hint of offense. He took a step forward, as if to grab me.

Just then, a sharp knock echoed on the heavy door.

“Boss!” It was Marco, his right-hand man, his voice urgent.

Evan froze, the cold mask of the Blackthorn Don snapping back into place. “What is it?”

“It’s Sofia. She says her safe house was breached. She’s terrified.”

Sofia.

That name was like a poisoned dagger, stabbing right into the memories of my past life.

I watched Evan’s expression change in a heartbeat.

The cold, calculating look vanished, replaced by raw urgency and worry.

He seemed to forget I was even there, striding to the walk-in closet and grabbing a shirt and slacks.

“Get the men ready. We’re out in five. Tell the guards at the perimeter to lock everything down!” His orders were sharp and quick.

He was buttoning his shirt with one hand and dialing his phone with the other, brushing past me like a gust of wind without a single glance.

It wasn't the first time. He'd drop everything for Sofia if she so much as whispered she was "scared."

And me? I'd taken a bullet for him, stitched up wounds that should have killed him, cleaned up more bloody messes than I could count. I never once got that look of concern from him.

I watched him disappear, listening to the fading sound of his and his men's footsteps down the hall.

I thought I was numb to it.

But being reborn, seeing it happen all over again, I realized it wasn't numbness. My heart was just dead.

I picked up my coat, ready to leave, but the door swung open again.

My brother, Luca Vitti, walked in.

He’s a high-ranking enforcer for the family, one of Evan’s most trusted men.

He saw me and paused. “Rachel? You’re still here?”

Luca always thought my access to Evan’s private rooms was because the Don valued my medical skills and trusted me as an advisor. He never knew about the dirty, hidden thing between us.

“Yeah,” I nodded. “Just finished up.”

“How come you’re not with the Boss?” he asked, confused. “You usually stick to him like glue, in case something happens…”

“Not anymore,” I cut him off. “The Boss doesn’t need me right now.”

Boss. Not Evan. The title was like an invisible wall, instantly creating a chasm between us.

Luca was about to say something else, but his phone rang.

He glanced at it, then looked at me with a sigh. “It’s the Boss. He wants me to keep an eye on you, make sure you don’t wander off.”

He muttered under his breath, “He always keeps you close…”

I heard him, but I said nothing.

I was the only one who knew. It wasn’t about trust. It was just the possessiveness he felt for his property.