Chapter 2

The twins came home after nineteen days in the NICU.

Rosa's apartment was a shoebox — a cramped one-bedroom in Bushwick with peeling paint and a radiator that clanged like a war drum at three AM.

It was the safest place I had ever lived.

I set the car seats down on the kitchen counter and stared at my children.

Leo had his father's jaw. Already. At three weeks old, the stubborn set of that tiny chin was unmistakable.

Mia had my eyes. Dark. Watchful. Already suspicious of the world.

"You look like hell," Rosa said, handing me a cup of coffee that tasted like battery acid.

"I feel like hell."

"Good. Because hell is about to get worse."

She tossed her phone onto the counter.

The screen showed a tabloid headline.

CASTELLANO CEO ANNOUNCES ENGAGEMENT TO SOCIALITE ELENA VARGAS — "SHE'S THE ONE I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR"

Below the headline was a photo from the charity gala.

Luca was wearing a tuxedo that made him look like he'd been sculpted by God on a particularly inspired day. Elena was draped on his arm in a gold dress, her hand resting on her stomach.

The caption read: Baby on board! Sources confirm the happy couple is expecting their first child.

I stared at the photo.

His hand was on the small of her back. The exact place he used to rest his hand on mine when we were forced to attend events together — except on me, it felt like a leash.

On her, it looked like worship.

"Sera?" Rosa asked carefully.

"I'm fine."

"You're gripping that mug hard enough to shatter it."

I set it down. My hands were trembling.

"He thinks I'm barren, Rosa. He thinks I couldn't give him what he wanted. And now he's celebrating with the woman who made sure of it."

"The falsified reports?"

"Elena's cousin is a nurse at the clinic. She switched my lab results. Made it look like I had premature ovarian failure."

Rosa's face went white.

"That's — Sera, that's criminal. You could sue."

"Sue a Castellano?" I laughed. "With what money? What lawyers? I signed away my rights in the divorce. I get the settlement and nothing else. No claims. No custody disputes. Because officially, there are no children."

Mia started crying. A thin, reedy wail that pierced the kitchen.

I picked her up, cradling her against my chest. She was so light. So fragile.

"I need a job," I said.

"You just gave birth three weeks ago."

"And I have two mouths to feed, no savings after the NICU bills, and a settlement that won't arrive for ninety days."

Rosa bit her lip. I recognized that look. She was about to say something I wouldn't like.

"There's a position open at my company."

"Your company is Falcone & Associates."

"Yes."

"The architecture firm run by Adrian Falcone."

"Yes."

"Luca's biggest rival."

"... Yes."

I looked at her.

"What's the position?"

"Executive assistant to the CEO. His last one quit because he's — and I quote — 'an impossible, demanding, arrogant perfectionist with zero emotional intelligence.'"

"Sounds familiar."

"The pay is insane, Sera. Six figures. Full benefits. On-site daycare."

I looked down at Mia. She had stopped crying. She was staring up at me with those dark, knowing eyes.

"When's the interview?" I asked.

Rosa grinned.

"Tomorrow morning. Eight AM."

I looked at the tabloid photo one more time.

Luca's smile. Elena's hand on her stomach. The fairy tale they were selling to the world.

I closed the browser.

"I'll be there."