Chapter 1

Astrid's POV

At twenty-nine, Dominic Brooks becomes the king of this city's underworld.

The last family that tried to challenge him got wiped out last night.

He's standing at the top of the pyramid now.

This is also the year I get pregnant with his child again.

The one we spent three years waiting for—a blessing that came late.

But today, I've been waiting for five hours.

It's three years since Lily died.

Our daughter. She died when his enemies came after us.

Every year until now, no matter how much blood was on Dominic's hands, he showed up at the cemetery on time.

But today, he's not picking up.

I'm not the type to sit at home crying.

I call one of my men.

"Mrs. Brooks."

"Find Dominic. Tell me where he is."

Ten minutes later, I get my answer.

He's at our biggest casino, celebrating his rise to the top with some girl.

I arrive at the casino and push through the crowd. That's when I hear a girl screaming at someone.

"You useless pieces of shit! Can't even pour a glass of champagne right. What the hell does Dominic keep you around for?"

Who has the nerve?

I see a young girl.

She's wearing an expensive dress I've never seen before. A brand new diamond necklace around her neck.

My men are standing there with their heads down. No one's stopping her.

One of the managers is apologizing, his voice pathetically servile.

The girl's on a roll now. She throws casino chips at the manager's face.

Then her eyes land on me. She looks smug.

"Oh, and that so-called Mrs. Brooks of yours." She laughs, contemptuous. "I heard she was at home crying again today. Over some dead kid. Dominic's sick of it!"

I see her face clearly now.

Evelyn Carson.

Two years ago. A trafficker's truck. A dozen kidnapped girls crammed inside.

She was the youngest one. Still in college. About to get shipped off to a brothel.

I pulled her out. Gave her a decent job.

Now she's standing in my casino, spitting on my daughter's memory with the freedom I gave her.

Before I can say anything, someone shoves my shoulder hard. I stumble.

Dominic walks past me like I'm just some stranger in his way.

He goes straight to the girl and pulls her into his arms.

"Alright, alright, baby, calm down." His voice is gentle. "Whatever you want. I'll give you anything."

Evelyn leans against his chest, looking at me with that smug expression.

Dominic kisses her forehead before he looks up.

When he sees my face, he freezes for a second.

Then he puts on that familiar, careless smile.

"What are you doing here?" He sounds like he's talking to an unwanted guest. "Go home. I'll be back after I handle things here."

This man is wearing a custom suit worth a hundred grand. The watch on his wrist is the one I gave him.

We used to hold each other in a broken apartment in the slums.

He used to tell me that as long as I was there, he wasn't afraid of anything.

Now he won't even look at me.

"Do you know what day it is?" I ask.

Dominic frowns, like he's considering something trivial.

"Of course I know," he says. "But she's being difficult. I need to deal with her first."

He pats Evelyn's back, his voice soft. "Go wait in the room. I'll be right there."

Like it doesn't even matter.

I'm staring at this absurd scene.

My mind goes back to years ago. Dominic on his knees in front of me, putting a gun in my hand.

"I swear to God," he said. "I'll never betray you."

"If I ever do, use this gun to kill me."

That gun is still in my safe.

The bullets are still there too.

I laugh coldly. Then I grab the whiskey bottle from the casino table and smash it against Dominic's head.

Blood runs down from his temple.

Evelyn screams.

Dominic doesn't even try to dodge. He just instinctively shields her.

"You want to hit someone, hit me," he says, and there's actual irritation in his voice. "She's delicate. She can't handle this kind of thing."

"Go home. Don't make this uglier than it needs to be."

"This is ugly?" I sneer. "Years ago, I got beaten half to death protecting you. Nearly died in that warehouse. That was ugly."

Dominic just covers Evelyn's ears.

"She's pure. Innocent," he says, and there's disdain in his tone. "Not like you, Astrid. You grew up in this violent world."

"Stop talking about this stuff. You're scaring her."