Chapter One

Camilla

I was sixteen when my parents were killed in a car accident. A Semi truck had run a stop sign and plowed into the side of their Suburban, doing eighty miles an hour. The truck driver had fallen asleep, or so that is what we were told. My older brother, Michael, was a senior in high school and eighteen years old, so the state considered him an adult. Not me. I had to have a legal guardian.

I moved in with my Nonna to a small town in Iowa. My brother stayed behind to finish his last year of school. They had a hefty life insurance policy, and my parents had a substantial amount of money and investments. Michael stayed in our house and then sold it as soon as he graduated. He moved to Las Vegas, and I have not heard from him in five years.

After graduating from High School, I moved to New York to go to college. I was attending NYU, pursuing a degree in law. My mother had been a lawyer, and she was a good one. She only had a few clients, wealthy ones who kept her on retainer. What she did for those people, I never knew. I completed my bachelor’s degree in criminal justice and was in my second year of Law School. Thankfully, I did not have to worry about how to pay for school. That was all managed by my Nonna, who was the Conservator of my Trust Fund. I still had to work, though. Nonna didn't want me to think things were easy, always encouraging me to work for what I wanted. Back in Iowa, I worked as a waitress on weekends at a local diner. Now in New York, I do the same. The money is decent, and it pays my rent and pays for my necessities. My roommate was in law school with me, Natalia. She was my best and only friend here in New York. I met her in my Freshman Year, and we became fast friends.

Natalia and I were walking to the Subway, leaving campus. It was my 23rd Birthday and we had planned to go out on the town tonight. This was something rare for us, always studying and working. There wasn't much room for play. We made time on our birthdays. She invited a couple of girls from our Ethics class with whom she had become friendly with. I was always shyer and more reserved, so I didn't know the girls very well; I only knew that they were law students and seemed nice enough. "Where should we go tonight?" Natalia asked me as we descended the stairs into the Subway. "I have to text the other girls and give them a place and time."

I tapped my chin lightly, thinking of a good place to dance. "What about The Myth? That is a fun place, and we have only gone there that one time two years ago."

"Ohm perfect," Natalia said with a squeal. She sent a text before losing cell service on the train. We waited on the platform for only a couple of minutes before our train rolled into the station. We hopped on the already crowded train, Brooklyn-bound. We could never afford an apartment in Manhattan unless we wanted to live in a shoebox. As it was, we just had two bedrooms in a modest neighborhood, and we still paid over three thousand dollars a month.

Thirty minutes later, we exited the R train and made our way to our cozy little apartment. It was on the third floor of a brownstone that had been converted into three apartments. The basement apartment was one bedroom, and our neighbor was some young guy who looked like he worked in accounting or something. We rarely saw him, except in passing on the rare days we were home around six. He was at least six foot two and had broad shoulders. He was always dressed in a suit, black glasses on his face. He looked like he worked out, but he did something we assumed was nerdy. Today was one of the days we happened to see him as he walked down the sidewalk from the opposite direction. He was looking at his phone, his brow crinkled. As he walked past us, he brushed Natalia's shoulder, and she dropped her books. "Shit," she muttered, as she bent to pick them up.

"I'm sorry, let me help you." His voice was deep and had a very soothing timbre to it. I watched as he put his phone in his pocket and bent down to help Natalia. He stopped as he looked up at her face, his jaw hanging open. Natalia was beautiful, her skin always looking like she had been tanning. She had caramel-colored eyes and black hair. She was every bit a Latina woman. He must have realized he was staring, because he shook his head and then stood with her books in his hand.

"Thank you," Natalia said, her hand extended for her books.

"It was totally my fault. I'm Daniel. Don't you live in this building?" He tilted his head towards the brownstone.

"Yes, we do. I'm Natalia, and this is my friend Camilla," she indicates me standing a few feet from them on the sidewalk.