Giulia sat in the velvet shadows of her club, a glass of red wine untouched at her side. Weeks of silence gnawed at her—gifts returned unopened, calls ignored, her apologies lost in the void.

She hated herself for letting the truth slip by accident, for wounding the only person who had ever seen her as more than a boss. She longed to storm their world, drag them back into her arms, but fear of breaking them held her still.

When her men approached, whispering that her ex had finally come to see her, Giulia’s pulse roared in her ears—hope and dread twisting tighter than any noose.