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prologue
SANDRA
Six months earlier
My sister sworea weekend at the lake would be fun, and as the bare-assed man I met last night slides out of my bed, I'd say she was right.
It should be awkward, right? I know his name. I know he's the brother of Daimen Torano, who is Chicago royalty. He's hot and likes to tell me what to do in the bedroom. It's all I know about him, but what more do I really need? When was the last time I had sex before last night? And how many orgasms did I have?
He looks back at me, sliding his jeans up and hiding the excellent view. "I had fun. Same time, same place tonight, Rosso?" It's what he's called me since we crossed paths last night. After all, he’s obsessed with my flaming red locks.
This is insane. I love sex, and I'm not a prude, but meeting a man a decade younger than me, only to repeat it tonight—I may be almost forty, but I'm not dead. Nor am I stupid.
"Sounds like a plan," I answer, and he slips out of the room.
And it was the plan, but in the typical way my life seems to work, nothing goes according to plan, leaving a second night with Dominic Torano to my imagination.
one
DOMINIC
“You've got to be fucking kidding me? I don't hear from you in, what, three years? You've not shown an ounce of interest in your grandkids, yet you're calling me for money?"
My parents aren't good people. They weren't great role models when raising my older brother, younger sister, and me. After twelve years, they still pop up occasionally, feeling entitled to what they think they're owed. My brother and his partners have triplets. My parents haven't shown an ounce of interest in his children, much less their own.
“Daimen wouldn't let us near them anyway." Mom's damaged lungs from all the years of smoking make her sound like a chorus of frogs in a pond at night. She's in her fifties, but her voice indicates someone much older.
“Why are you fucking surprised? As often as you knocked us around, I'd not let you near them, even if Daimen did."
“Dominic.” My mother pulls out my full name, like that’s going to do a damn thing. "You're the sensible one, notemotionally driven like your brother or out-and-out unhinged like your sister..."
“Keep their names out of your fucking mouth. Considering you were the one that put Daimen in the hospital more than once and threw Daria across the room a time too many, I think they turned out far better than could be expected."
“Dominic, sweetheart, it's your dad. He lost his job, and he's been sick. I wouldn't ask, but..."
“Yet every year, it's the same fucking thing. Don't you realize that none of us owe you a goddamn thing; I couldn't care less if you breathed your last breath."
She begins with a sniffle until it turns into an out-and-out wail. "I can't live this life without your father, Dom. We need help. Please, don't say no to me."
“Mother, listen to what I'm about to tell you, and don't make me repeat myself. Leave us the fuck alone, and while you're at it, do us all a favor and jump off a bridge."
I end the phone call and push back in my chair, hitting the wall with such force I bounce forward. Each time I speak with one of my parents, I'm reminded of every pain, insecurity, and agonizing travesty at their hands.
The door connecting the main office space for Torano and Chambers' Landscape Engineering opens slowly, and behind it stands my business partner and one of my best friends. His eyes find my phone, which I've just slammed down, and he asks, “Is it safe to come in?”
Bodhi has been a part of my life long enough that he understands the fury that lives in me and how triggering it is each time my parents try to insert themselves into my life.
“Are you going to tell Daimen?" Bo asks, taking a tentative step closer to me.
"That our parents want him to write them a check, and then they'll leave us alone until the next time they think they are entitled to something that's not theirs?"
Bodhi sits in front of me, and his expression isn't that of pity. He doesn't pity me, but it's righteous anger for every bit of rage they stir inside me. "You can't keep this from Daimen."
He's right. We don't keep secrets, the three of us. It's not how our sibling bond works. We're better than our parents, and our strong bond, it's one way we are so different from them.
"I'll tell him. Maybe not right now, not with the triplets and all, but I will, along with Daria too."
He turns over his watch, checking the time. Bo treasures every second with his son since his divorce.
