Chapter 1

On Family Day at his private school, the teacher asked the children to give each member of their family a score.

On his card, my son, Leo, wrote:

"Dad, 100. Aunt Bianca, 100."

"Mom, 0. I hate her."

For three years I had fought my ex-husband, Damon, in court with everything I had. I gave up every cent of alimony just to win custody away from him.

But now, looking at that card, I was suddenly, completely tired.

When it was over, I handed Damon the signed papers giving up custody.

"He's yours," I said evenly. "The lawyers can handle the rest."

Damon is the don of New York's criminal underworld. He thought I was retreating so I could advance. He'd even had the papers drawn up for us to remarry, and he was waiting for me to sign and come home.

He seemed to have forgotten that his mistress had crushed my right hand under her stiletto heel, and that he had pulled strings to have my medical license revoked.

He'd forgotten, too, that on the day my mother was in a car accident, he stopped the doctors from going into the operating room, just to force me to give in.

The day my mother died on that table, my heart died with her.

So when he was sure I would bow my head, I nodded. I pretended to agree to meet him at City Hall in three days to remarry.

Damon waited outside City Hall all day with his bodyguards. He had no idea I was already on a plane to London.

He thought I would have nowhere to go, just like before.

But he forgot one thing. A woman who has already lost everything never looks back.

————

"He's yours." I slapped the signed manila envelope down on the hood of his armored Bentley. "I signed. The lawyers can handle the rest. The sooner the better."

The cold New York November wind cut straight down the collar of my coat.

Damon stood by the car door, a cigar between his fingers, his hand frozen in midair. His eyes went as dark as I'd ever seen them.

"From now on, Bianca is Leo's mother."

I looked him in the eye, my voice perfectly flat. "That's what he chose, anyway."

Leo's eyes lit up. He was about to cheer, but one savage look from Damon made him hunch his shoulders.

The boy shrank back half a step. I laughed coldly inside. He liked Aunt Bianca so much, and now he'd gotten exactly what he wanted. So why was he suddenly too scared to make a sound?

"Have you lost your mind?" Damon crushed out his cigar and strode over to me, his huge frame looming over me. "You'd rather toss your own son away like garbage than bow your head to me just once?"

"I'm not in the habit of bowing my head to anyone."

I opened the back door and got in, completely ignoring the passenger seat that used to be mine.

Damon slammed the door hard and glared at me in the rearview mirror like he wanted to eat me alive.

Bianca swayed her hips as she slid into the passenger seat. She turned around and gave me a flawless, fake smile. "Sorry you have to sit in the back, Vivian. Damon adjusted the seat for me, and I just can't be bothered to change it."

She arched an eyebrow, her voice dripping with charitable pity. "Honestly, if you want to come back to the Moretti family, why use your son as an excuse? This time you're giving the boy back. Next time... are you planning to give yourself back too?"

"If you can't keep your mouth shut, get out of the car. Now."

I stared coldly out the window and didn't even spare her a glance.

Bianca's face stiffened. She turned to Damon, looking wounded.

Damon didn't say a word. He floored the gas, and the car roared off.

We drove into a rough, crowded neighborhood in Brooklyn and pulled up in front of an old building where even the elevator was broken.

I got out, went down the stairs, and shoved my key into the peeling iron door.

Before I'd even stepped inside, Bianca covered her nose and shrieked, "Oh my God, Vivian, you actually live in this rat hole?"

Damon looked around the dark, damp, moldy basement, his face livid. The first thing out of his mouth was a condescending attack. "My son lives on the Upper East Side, and you bring him here on his weekends? To this dump?"

I took off my coat and didn't bother answering.

I had gone from being the youngest attending neurosurgeon in the country to having my license revoked by the medical board. After that, I was reduced to working off the books as an aide in back-alley clinics.

In just six years, this man had wiped my life clean.

Now I worked the night shift as a cashier at a twenty-four-hour convenience store. My tiny hourly wage was barely enough to rent this basement.

But all of that was about to end.

Leo had a lot of things, but there were very few he really wanted.

I picked out a few clothes and toys and stuffed them into a suitcase.

I crouched down to look my son in the eye. "Eat your meals on time. Listen to your father. Don't make Bianca angry."

I held the suitcase out to Damon. He didn't take it.

Bianca reached for it, but Damon suddenly turned and slammed the door shut.

He had locked Bianca and Leo outside.

In the cramped basement, he loomed over me, staring at me like a wolf watching its prey.

After a long moment, he scoffed. He pulled a document out of the inside pocket of his suit and tapped the pages against my cheek.

"Vivian, are you done with this act yet?"

He stepped closer, wound a strand of my hair around his finger, and said mockingly, "I know you too well. You can't live without Leo, but you're too proud to beg me. So you're playing this little game, pulling back so I'll give you a way down."

"Take a good look. I had the papers drawn up for us to remarry a long time ago."

"Just nod and sign, and I'll pretend these last three years never happened. I'll take you home."