Chapter 2

The days that followed, I turned myself into a work machine. First one in the office, last one out, crunching spreadsheets until three in the morning. Annie said it was post-breakup syndrome, using work to numb myself. I didn't argue.

But what hurt worse was having to face Vito's face every single day.

"Bella, these numbers are off. Redo them."

"Bella, working this weekend."

"Bella, you haven't smiled lately. You used to look pretty when you smiled."

He stood next to my cubicle, that infuriating smirk on his lips, handing me coffee while his fingers brushed deliberately against the back of my hand. I pulled back and grabbed my own cup, the black coffee that had gone cold hours ago.

"Boss, I'll handle my work. Save the extra effort."

Vito raised an eyebrow but said nothing, turning to walk away. Still, I felt his gaze linger on my back long after he'd left.

Friday night, the quarterly celebration was held at the top floor of the Palma Hotel. All management had to attend. Vito personally delivered the notice, locking eyes with me as he said, "Bella, don't make excuses. You have to come."

That night, I wore a simple black dress, pinned my hair up, and painted my lips fire-engine red. The woman in the mirror looked sharp, composed, but her eyes held a layer of exhaustion that no lipstick could hide.

The top floor of the Palma Hotel blazed with light, crystal chandeliers scattering gold like shattered coins. I stood in the corner with a glass of sparkling water. Vito worked the room like a peacock in full display, white suit, hair slicked back, surrounded by three or four women in gowns, their laughter rising and falling around him.

I stared at him, my grip tightening on my glass until my knuckles went white.

Alcohol burned through my veins. Three glasses of champagne in, Vito's face blurred with the reflection in that car window.

Thinking about you, baby. Had another dream about you last night. Liar.

I didn't remember when the champagne turned into whiskey. Annie tried to stop me. I pushed her off.

Then I saw Vito walking toward me. Martini in hand, that sickening smile on his face.

"Bella, you look gorgeous tonight."

I stared at him. That face. Identical to Gravano's. Same jawline. Same sharp features. But the smile was wrong.

"You liar." The words came out louder than I'd intended.

Vito's smile froze. "What?"

"A year." I stood up, my glass tilting in my grip. "A whole damn year. You messaged me every night, said you missed me, said I was your one and only, and what was the result?"

The room went quiet. Annie grabbed my arm. I shook her off.

"The result is you were swapping women every goddamn day!" I hurled my glass at him.

The liquor splashed out, right across the chest of his white suit. Brown liquid dripped down the expensive fabric.