Chapter 2

The noise downstairs dragged me out of my sleep.

I checked the clock. 8 a.m.

Nico's side of the bed was empty. The sheets were ice cold.

I walked downstairs and saw something I will never forget.

Nico stood there with his arm wrapped around another woman. She was ordering my maids around. Rearranging my house.

Several pink suitcases sat in the living room, like flags claiming territory.

Bianca.

She wore a white silk nightgown, walking barefoot on my marble floors, barking orders like she owned the place.

"That painting is too high. Move it." She pointed at the real Monet I had picked out. "And pack up that vase. The color is too dull."

She gasped theatrically when she saw me on the stairs.

"Oh my God! You must be Nico's wife." She clung to his arm and blinked innocently. "I'm so sorry for moving in without meeting you first. My house caught fire last night. I hope you don't mind?"

I looked at her luggage and replied coldly.

"Your bags are already here. Why even ask?"

Nico noticed my dark look. He tried to let go of Bianca and step toward me.

Just then, footsteps came from the front door.

A man looking exactly like Nico walked into the living room.

Marco.

"Marco!" Nico flashed a perfect smile. "Right on time."

He turned to me, a sick glint in his eyes.

"Scarlett, this is the 'surprise' I mentioned. My brother, Marco. You two should formally meet."

The three of them shared a knowing laugh, like partners in crime.

I clenched my fists. Humiliation washed over me.

Yesterday at the casino, I learned how to tell them apart: Marco had a tiny scar behind his ear. The only difference.

I looked behind the ear of the man who had just walked in. The scar was right there.

So the man who had mocked me last night and was holding Bianca right now was Nico himself.

And Marco, my "surprise," had just walked in.

So who was the man in my bed last night? Who was the one touching me?

"She's just crashing here for a few days," Nico said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You don't mind, right?"

Sister?

I choked down my disgust and forced a stiff smile.

"Of course not. The house is huge. One more won't hurt."

My phone buzzed. Julian, my lawyer, texted: Property division agreement is ready. You can sign anytime.

I was about to text back when a maid gasped.

"Ma'am, your study..."

I ran upstairs. The maids were clearing out my study.

My rare research files, my curation plans, and...

The portraits of my parents.

"Stop!" I rushed over. "What are you doing?"

"The Boss said this room is for Miss Bianca," the maid said nervously. "He told us to move your things to the guest room."

My study, given to Bianca.

Those portraits were the only things I had left of my parents. The research was my entire career.

I chased the maids out to the courtyard. They were piling my paintings and files by the pool.

"Be careful!" I sprinted over. "Those paintings are priceless—"

Before I could finish, Bianca appeared behind me.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." She faked concern. "I just wanted to air out your old stuff so it wouldn't get moldy."

Then she pretended to slip. A clumsy, deliberate move. She knocked the portraits straight into the pool.

"No!"

The canvas hit the water. The paint bled immediately, blurring my parents' faces.

I instinctively shielded my stomach and threw myself at the edge of the pool to save them.

Bianca suddenly screamed and threw herself into the water, thrashing and choking on purpose.

"Help! I can't swim!"

Nico was there in a flash. He dove in without a second thought, dragging the little actress from the water.

"Are you okay?" He checked on her frantically.

Then he snapped his head toward me, pure fury in his eyes.

"Are you crazy?"

A hard slap slashed across my face.

My cheek went numb. I tasted blood.

"Bianca was just trying to help, and you do this?" Nico's voice was ice. "How could you be so vicious?"

I held my cheek, staring at him in disbelief.

"Those were my parents' paintings..."

"Who cares about your dead parents?" he mocked cruelly. "They've been dead for years. It's bad luck. Bianca touched them and look what happened."

My heart didn't just break. It shattered.

The tears wouldn't come. Only a cold, absolute despair that froze me to the bone.

"As for your curation plans," a flash of pity crossed his eyes, but he still sneered, "without Russo money, they're trash. Now, apologize to Bianca."

In the pool, the portraits were ruined. Just swaths of paint floating on the water.

I looked at the wreckage and burst out laughing.

I laughed until I cried.

"Nico Russo," I glared right into his eyes, "I will never apologize to this bitch!"