Chapter 2

Roberta's POV

Ten years ago, in Hell's Kitchen, when Grayson was on the ground getting kicked by three guys twice his size and he looked up at me with that same desperate expression.

The realization crept through me slowly, cold and terrible. My husband was doing to her exactly what I'd done to him a decade ago. Saving the broken bird. Playing hero to someone who looked at him like he was their whole world.

"Go to hell," I said. "Both of you."

I spun around and stormed out. Everyone was gawking at me, talking under their breath. They probably think I've lost it.

I somehow made it home, but I couldn't even get out of the car. I just sat there, completely wiped out.

The coat hung loose around my shoulders. I could still feel the ink on my skin, sticky and thick. The letters were probably smeared by now, but they felt carved into me.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it.

I just sat there staring at the wheel, my mind going back to that first time I laid eyes on Gemma at the pier four years ago.

One of my guys opened up the container and yelled, "Boss, you need to see this."

I walked over with Grayson beside me. We'd been married three years and we always moved together like this, while he was still getting used to what my family actually did for a living.

As we got closer to the container, the smell hit me first, sweat and fear and human waste mixed together.

Then I saw maybe twenty women crammed inside that shipping container, all thin and filthy with terror in their eyes.

"Jesus Christ," Grayson said next to me.

I pulled out my phone to call the police when something suddenly grabbed my leg.

A girl, maybe nineteen or twenty, was on her knees clutching my pants. Her dark hair was matted with dirt and she was crying so hard.

"Please," she said, her voice breaking. "Please don't send me back. They'll kill me. Please, I'll do anything, I can work, I can clean, please—"

Those eyes were filled with desperation and fear and begging, and they were blue-green too.

Ten years ago in Hell's Kitchen, I'd seen the same eyes. A beaten Irish kid had looked up at me and silently begged me not to see him as just street trash.

For a moment I couldn't breathe right, and I thought about Grayson ten years ago. Because of him, I softened.

"Don't be afraid," I heard myself say. "You're safe now. You're free."

Grayson watched me help the girl to her feet with this tender look on his face. "You're too kind for this world," he said, and kissed my temple. "But that's why I love you."

After that I kept her. I paid for her school and got her an apartment. Eventually I made her Grayson's secretary because she was smart and hardworking and seemed so grateful.

My phone rang and jolted me back to the present.

I looked at the screen. Michelle Romano, one of those society wives who always had to know everything.

I answered the phone.

"Robi! Oh my god, tell me everything!" Michelle's voice was shrill with excitement. "What surprise did Grayson plan for your anniversary? You two are so romantic. I mean, when he bid that astronomical price for that emerald necklace at Sotheby's just to propose to you, I knew he'd do something even more extravagant now!"

My stomach turned.

"It was a surprise alright," I said, and my voice came out flat.

"So? What was it? Don't keep me waiting!"

"More like a shock," I said. "I have to go, Michelle."

I hung up before she could say anything else.

My phone buzzed again immediately. A message from Sofia this time.

I opened it and a video started playing.

Gemma's laughing face filled the screen. The video was from earlier today, from the helicopter. She'd livestreamed the whole thing.

"Did you see her face?" Gemma was shrieking with laughter. "That bitch thought she was untouchable! Thought she could look down on everyone!"

The camera moved and I saw myself unconscious, hanging from the rope.

"The ink is permanent," Gemma continued, and her voice was so smug. "Special formula. It'll never fade. Every time she looks in the mirror, she'll remember who's really in control now."

The comments kept scrolling.

YESSS QUEEN

She deserved it

Rich bitches need to be humbled

Drag her

My hands were shaking. I hadn't expected this, every second of my humiliation watched by thousands of people. Gemma's mocking laughter. All those comments cheering for what she did to me.

When the video ended, I picked up my phone and called Antonio.

"Bring Gemma to me," I said, "Don't let her scream. And get me a medical team ready and bring them along with her."