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Chapter One
ROMERO
Smoke poured from my lips as I exhaled. The cigar burned with the faintest crinkling sound, its scent wooden and utterly delicious. Paired with the scotch in my glass, I could almost forget the constant dull ache in my chest.
The entire building was silent, and I considered turning on some music to help ease the ringing in my ears, but decided against it. Staring down at the paperwork before me, I took another long drag from the thick roll of tobacco.
The numbers all jumbled together from hours of poring over the documents. I rubbed my eyes, hoping to clear them. The time on my watch said it was eleven. Everyone had left several hours ago.
But every night I buried myself in work, needing the distraction. The house I lived in by myself was too fucking empty—too quiet—for me to rationalize going back. My pathetic excuse for a wife was dead, and her now eighteen-year-old daughter bounced from her car to her best friend’s couch like life was a fucking trampoline.
Julietta.
The bright girl with golden hair and sapphire eyes models would kill for. She was a spitfire, daring to make it in the world on her own, just like I had. My mother had been a crack whore too, selling me at the mere age of five to her dealer. He’d raised me by the back of his hand until I ran away when I was seven, though I didn’t know where the fuck I was going.
Luckily the asshole didn’t come looking for me. From there, it was foster homes.
Julietta at least had her grandmother until she passed away a year before I showed up in Julietta’s life, attempting to get her mother to sober the fuck up. The two of us learned early on how to survive on our own. Though right now, the world was chewing her up and about to spit her out.
Luck and money were running out. Not that I’d been monitoring her bank account or anything. I was surprised she’d made it two years. Several months ago, she completed her GED while working at that tiny shoe store that clearly struggled to offer her minimum wage.
My phone vibrated next to my arm, the screen lighting up with the phone number I knew all too well. A sudden jump in my pulse made me set down my drink hard enough for the dregs of expensive scotch to splash onto the table. I jerked the papers away from the puddle with an agitated hiss. The phone continued to buzz, and I plucked it up, hoping I wasn’t too late.
“Hello?” I rasped in a rush, my voice scratchy with disuse.
The line was silent a moment, and I imagined her holding her breath, desperately coming up with another plan. “Romero,” she said at last.
That one little word—my name—warmed my chest. She sounded okay. She sounded healthy.
“It’s good to hear from you, Julietta.” Pushing my office chair back, I sat the cigar in the ashtray and swallowed what was left of my drink before I went to stand in front of the open window. The city below glittered with life and vibrance—but all I saw was money to be made. Fools who chased a life that they’d die before finding.
I heard her clear her throat. “You too,” she whispered. Then, seeming to regain her usual strength she said, “I have a proposition for you.”
My back straightened, though I had a good idea what she wanted to ask. “I’m listening.” For some reason, I sounded a little hoarse, and wished my glass wasn’t empty.
“I’ve been accepted to the university right near…your house, but I couldn’t get enough of a loan to live on campus, so I’m wondering if I could just stay there. With you. I’ll pay rent and everything. It’s just that my car keeps breaking down and my insurance is so high—”
“Yes,” I said firmly, cutting her off. When she didn’t immediately continue, I carried on. “You’ll stay for free in your mother’s house. I’ll take a look at your car, and for the duration of your studies, I will pay your insurance. Your medical debt will be cleared too. Do you want to come now?”
There was another long stretch of silence that made me check if the call had been dropped.
“I’ll come tomorrow. If you’re sure,” she answered. “But you’re not paying my insurance or my medical bills. We’ll discuss rent when I get there.”
The little firecracker hung up before I had time to argue, but I found myself smiling. Downing the last of the burning alcohol, I felt a flare of something warm and pleasant in my chest for the first time in years. It replaced the hollow sensation I’d walked around with since Vanessa’s sixteen-year-old daughter walked out the door two years ago.
I grabbed my suit jacket from the back of my chair, slung it on, and headed out toward the elevator.
It might have seemed silly or even odd that a man my age was looking forward to a teenager staying under his roof yet again. But I’d sworn the moment I’d discovered her existence that I would protect her.
And what better way to protect my assets than keeping them close?
Chapter Two
JULIETTA
My car chugged and wheezed up the long, paved driveway. “Come on, you piece of shit,” Igrowled. It finally jerked to a stop, the engine sputtering out.
My eyes squeezed shut as I sucked in a calming breath. Beside me, a new violet Honda stopped, and beautiful, lean Arie got out of her perfect car. Groaning, I followed suit, taking the cigarette my best friend held out to me, her big brown eyes trying to lend me the courage to do this.
