Chapter 1

Every time Don Damon Croce gave me the silent treatment, he'd wire a sum into my account—what he called "emotional compensation."

"Ava, you need coddling. I need peace and quiet. Take the money. Go keep yourself a nice young boy toy if you want."

The last time, he transferred a massive amount.

"Ava, Sofia's depression is flaring up again. She says if she doesn't get a commitment—some kind of guarantee—she'll kill herself. We file for divorce first. Once she's stable, we remarry."

"In the meantime, spend the money however you like."

One of his friends sitting nearby grinned at him. "Boss, Ava's the woman you gave up the Croce family trust to marry. You're really just going to divorce her like that?"

"Exactly. Ava's way too proud. What if she actually takes your money and spends it on another man?"

Damon flipped through a dockyard ledger without so much as glancing up.

"She won't."

"You all know she grew up on scholarships and charity. Nothing she hates more than owing anyone. She'd sooner starve than touch a cent of my money."

Someone let out a low whistle.

"That's cold, Boss. You wire the money, she refuses to use it, and that's her pride talking—can't blame you for any of it."

Everyone assumed I'd do what I always did: send every penny back.

But this time, I hit accept.

The living room went silent for one full second.

Damon turned his head to look at me. The smirk on his face froze.

"Ava!"

I didn't look back. I walked straight for the foyer.

His lieutenant blocked the doorway, expression awkward. "Ava, you're joking, right?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

Damon slowly sat up on the sofa, grinding out a cigarette butt under his shoe. Every man in the room—associates, friends—had gone quiet. Their eyes bounced between me and him.

He looked at me with a mocking smile.

"Got someone else lined up?"

I glanced back at him.

"Why—curious?"

His gaze traveled down my bodycon dress and four-inch heels, and his expression darkened by degrees.

Then he let out a scoff and spoke toward the phone on the table.

"Sofia, you called it. A bet's a bet."

Sofia's soft, honeyed voice came through the speaker.

"Ava, I'm sorry."

"Damon insisted on making this bet with me. He said you'd never take the money. But I said—who turns down ten million?"

Damon swept a glance at me.

"I lost. What do you want?"

"Come to me. Right now."

"On my way."

The call ended. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

I swallowed the ache in my chest and followed him out.

In the hallway, their stares clung to my skin like cobwebs I couldn't shake off no matter how hard I tried.

"I give it three days before she's crying and wiring the money back. Like she could ever bring herself to leave Boss."

"That's what happens when you crawl up from the bottom—all bluster, no substance. She's nothing compared to Sofia. Now there's a woman who knows how to take care of a man."

"You think Boss would actually go through with the divorce?"

That last line nailed me to the floor.

A chill crept up my spine.

Every time Damon froze me out and wired me money, I'd send it back. Every last cent.

I thought I was preserving my dignity.

I thought someday he'd understand me. Cherish me.

But here was reality.

I waited, and waited, and waited. I gave ground again and again. And all I got in return was his back, growing smaller in the distance.

I was done living like this.

I'd barely taken a step when Damon doubled back.

His fists were clenched, knuckles white. He let out a cold laugh.

"So you want to pick a man? Let me help."

I pushed down the pain in my chest and forced a careless smile.

"How thoughtful."

The indifference in my voice hit the room like a bucket of ice water.

Dead silence.

He shoved me into the car.

The AC was blasting inside.

Just like Damon himself—cold without a trace of warmth.

The black armored SUV tore through the streets and finally stopped outside a neon-drenched nightclub. It was a Croce family establishment. Guards in black suits flanked the entrance, the low murmur in their earpieces swallowed by the music.

A line of young men filed out and stood in a row before me.

Damon's mouth twisted into a sardonic smile.

"Have fun. If you need more, just ask."

Then he cut through the crowd and stopped at a booth.

Sofia sat there, cheeks flushed, cradling a half-empty glass of amber liquor.

Damon crouched down and murmured to her.

"Why'd you drink so much?"

Sofia tilted her head up at him, eyes glistening.

"Got bored waiting for you."

He brushed his thumb across the corner of her eye, then cupped the back of her neck and kissed her.

The hooting around them swelled, wave after wave.

But Damon's eyes drifted over her shoulder and locked onto me, watching for my reaction.

The bass pounded through my ribcage until it went numb.

I lowered my head and took a sip of my drink. Cold tears slid down my cheeks.

The tears I'd been holding back for so long finally broke through.

Sofia leaned into his ear and whispered something.

Damon froze for a beat, and then his eyes exploded with joy.

He swept Sofia off her feet, spinning her in front of everyone.

"I'm going to be a father!"