Chapter 3

“Layla.” Rico finished washing up, turning to me with a reminder. “You’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry.”

I snapped out of my scroll and bolted out of bed. I had a 9 a.m. appointment at the Seaside Estate to shoot with Vincenzo Valentino.

I was obsessively punctual. Never late, except once.

There’d been a huge transit strike in Queens. I was just about to jump out and run the rest of the way when I glanced up and saw Rico’s private helicopter flying overhead.

I was wondering where he was going when my cabbie let out a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be damned. My wife’s a flight attendant, said there’s a real big shot on her Vienna flight today. Bet that’s him.”

Funny thing was, Seraphina was in Vienna at the time.

That’s when it hit me that I could ask him for a ride.

“Rico, I’m cutting it close. Are you busy today?”

“Got a family meeting this afternoon,” he’d said, not looking up from his laptop. “I’ll have the chopper come get you.”

I paused. “Okay. Thanks.”

Saying “thanks” was this stupid, constant thing in our marriage.

We were the perfect picture of mutual respect. Or total strangers.

Thanks to the chopper, I made it right on time.

Vincenzo Valentino, Rico’s grandfather, the former Don of the family, was sitting in the estate’s outdoor shooting range, grinning when he saw me.

We’d met at a shooting club in Brooklyn. The old man was stubborn as hell, and with his reputation, no one dared so much as breathe wrong around him. Back then, I was just doing my part-time job at the club. The other staff, knowing I was an orphan with no family, no connections, always stuck me with serving him.

Somehow, over time, we’d become friends.

I had no clue he was the top Don of New York’s underworld.

Until the day Rico showed up with an army of bodyguards to take Vincenzo here. That was the first time I’d ever seen him. I was hooked the second I laid eyes on him.

“Layla,” the old man waved a hand in front of my face. “You sick? You’re a million miles away.”

I glanced down at the gun in my hand, and realized I’d jammed the magazine into the wrong weapon.

He saw right through me, a knowing grin on his face. “So. My grandson Rico. He’s easy on the eyes, huh?”

I shook my head, trying to snap out of the stupid thoughts swirling in my head.

“You’re a good kid, Layla. Folks like us? We never know if death or tomorrow’s coming first.If he would like to settle down with a steady, good girl like you for a quiet life. That’s no bad thing.”

Rico was handsome, powerful, still carried that untamed wildness that made every girl’s heart race.

And he was a hopeless romantic. Seraphina had loved daisies, so he’d filled the entire estate with them, picked one for her every single morning. It was just my luck that I loved daisies too.

That’s when I finally understood why I’d been acting so off since the night Rossi was back.

I was scared. Scared that once they rekindled what they had, I’d be forced back to the same loneliness I’d felt in the orphanage.

Instead of sitting around waiting for the other shoe to drop, I’d make the first move.

After I left the estate, I didn’t go home. I went straight to a quiet, low-key law firm.

“I want a divorce. The agreement needs to be ironclad. Name your price.”