He was obsessively disciplined, hit the gym every single morning without fail. But not today.

He propped himself up against the headboard, staring at his phone, typing out a reply.

It wasn’t until 8 a.m. that he finally tossed the covers aside.

“Rico.” I spoke up.

“Are you going to the Rossi charity gala?”

We never had much to say to each other, anyway. Even though we shared a bed every night, I’d only heard about the gala from my friends.

Rico hesitated. “Yeah. You going?”

I shook my head. I knew Seraphina was my rival, in every way that mattered. Showing up at her family’s gala would only mean humiliation for me.

Rico didn’t say another word. He probably didn’t want me there, anyway.

I checked my phone. The forum thread had already hit thousands of replies. Together, Rico and Seraphina’s names were the stuff of legend in New York’s underworld circles.

Seraphina had made another post: “This weekend’s Rossi Charity Gala. All friends are welcome.”

Replies flooded in instantly:

“Thank you for the invite, Miss Rossi. The Moretti family will be in attendance.”

“Ser—Miss Rossi, we’re so sorry for gossiping about your past. We just hate that things ended the way they did for you…”

“Please don’t say anything to Mr. Valentino. I’ll get the mods to take the thread down right now.”

Seraphina just replied: “It’s alright, I actually think it’s… quite amusing. Rico won’t mind.”

With her blessing, the conversation swung right back to Rico.

“Wait, is Mr. Valentino actually gonna be there? You never hear anything about him these days.Man, who would’ve thought the legend of Queens would fly this far under the radar?”

“Miss Rossi, will Mr. Valention be attending?”

Another message from Seraphina popped up:“He just texted me back. He’s coming.”

“Layla.” Rico finished washing up, turning to me with a reminder. “You’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry.”

I snapped out of my scroll and bolted out of bed. I had a 9 a.m. appointment at the Seaside Estate to shoot with Vincenzo Valentino.

I was obsessively punctual. Never late, except once.

There’d been a huge transit strike in Queens. I was just about to jump out and run the rest of the way when I glanced up and saw Rico’s private helicopter flying overhead.

I was wondering where he was going when my cabbie let out a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be damned. My wife’s a flight attendant, said there’s a real big shot on her Vienna flight today. Bet that’s him.”

Funny thing was, Seraphina was in Vienna at the time.

That’s when it hit me that I could ask him for a ride.

“Rico, I’m cutting it close. Are you busy today?”

“Got a family meeting this afternoon,” he’d said, not looking up from his laptop. “I’ll have the chopper come get you.”

I paused. “Okay. Thanks.”

Saying “thanks” was this stupid, constant thing in our marriage.

We were the perfect picture of mutual respect. Or total strangers.

Thanks to the chopper, I made it right on time.

Vincenzo Valentino, Rico’s grandfather, the former Don of the family, was sitting in the estate’s outdoor shooting range, grinning when he saw me.

We’d met at a shooting club in Brooklyn. The old man was stubborn as hell, and with his reputation, no one dared so much as breathe wrong around him. Back then, I was just doing my part-time job at the club. The other staff, knowing I was an orphan with no family, no connections, always stuck me with serving him.

Somehow, over time, we’d become friends.

I had no clue he was the top Don of New York’s underworld.

Until the day Rico showed up with an army of bodyguards to take Vincenzo here. That was the first time I’d ever seen him. I was hooked the second I laid eyes on him.

“Layla,” the old man waved a hand in front of my face. “You sick? You’re a million miles away.”

I glanced down at the gun in my hand, and realized I’d jammed the magazine into the wrong weapon.

He saw right through me, a knowing grin on his face. “So. My grandson Rico. He’s easy on the eyes, huh?”

I shook my head, trying to snap out of the stupid thoughts swirling in my head.

“You’re a good kid, Layla. Folks like us? We never know if death or tomorrow’s coming first.If he would like to settle down with a steady, good girl like you for a quiet life. That’s no bad thing.”

Rico was handsome, powerful, still carried that untamed wildness that made every girl’s heart race.

And he was a hopeless romantic. Seraphina had loved daisies, so he’d filled the entire estate with them, picked one for her every single morning. It was just my luck that I loved daisies too.

That’s when I finally understood why I’d been acting so off since the night Rossi was back.

I was scared. Scared that once they rekindled what they had, I’d be forced back to the same loneliness I’d felt in the orphanage.

Instead of sitting around waiting for the other shoe to drop, I’d make the first move.

After I left the estate, I didn’t go home. I went straight to a quiet, low-key law firm.

“I want a divorce. The agreement needs to be ironclad. Name your price.”

Once I had the divorce papers in hand, I planned to head straight to Valentino family headquarters. I’d come up with some excuse to get Rico to sign it without him reading it first.

That way, I’d be the bigger person, and save him all the messy, unnecessary drama.

The whole drive over, I ran through a million different scenarios in my head. Would he notice what it was? Would he fly off the handle if he did?

But the second I stepped into the ground-floor lobby, armed bodyguards stepped in front of me, blocking my path.

“Sorry, ma’am. No entry.”

For three years, Rico had never once publicly acknowledged who I was to him. I wasn’t about to announce it now, either. I just pulled out my phone and called him.

The line rang once before I heard his ringtone echoing from the elevators. Rico was walking out, leading a group of his men.

He glanced at his screen, his brow furrowing slightly, like he was debating whether to answer. I hung up on instinct.

He didn’t seem to think much of it, just kept talking to the men behind him.

It wasn’t until he walked right past me that I saw who he’d been shielding with his body.

Seraphina Rossi.

Years had passed, but she was still just as ethereal, just as breathtaking.

She walked shoulder to shoulder with Rico, her voice bright with delight. “Ri, you still have the same ringtone after all these years? It’s still my favorite instrumental piece.”

Rico had been a rebellious, loud-mouthed kid who only listened to rap. But Seraphina had only loved soft instrumentals.

So he’d changed his entire music taste for her. That’s what love does, I guess. Even all these years later, he still held onto it.

The two of them stepped into the VIP elevator.

The bodyguard cleared his throat, speaking to me again.

“Ma’am, if you’re here on business, you’ll need to provide ID.”

I forced a smile. “Sorry, I took a wrong turn.”

I walked out of the building, my bones aching with exhaustion. All I wanted was to go home and sleep.

When I was arriving home, a friend forwarded me a post from a private underworld group chat.

“Holy fucking shit! Guess who I just spotted at that rooftop restaurant in Manhattan? Rico and Seraphina!”

“No way! Are they still there? I’m heading over right now!”

Seraphina had also posted a picture on her Instagram.

I noticed a man’s forearm holding a glass of water.

His face wasn’t in the frame, but I’d know those strong, defined forearms anywhere. And that million-dollar Patek Philippe on his wrist.

It was Rico. No question.

The caption read: “Savoring each meal together, sharing love and laughter.”

I zoomed in on the photo. Then zoomed in again. Rico had beautiful hands.

I’d stared at them a hundred times, when he pushed his glasses up his nose, flipped through case files, signed his name on contracts.

So it didn’t take me long to notice. The wedding band on his ring finger was gone.