Chapter 2

Back then, everyone in the neighborhood saw Aiden as nothing more than a strange, withdrawn boy with a bad temper.

He had no friends and no family willing to claim him. His parents belonged to two branches of the Moretti bloodline, and when their marriage collapsed, they were too busy fighting over money, territory, and old grudges to care what happened to their son.

I still remembered one bitter winter night when I found Aiden curled up in the stairwell of our building, shivering in nothing but a thin undershirt.

I felt sorry for him, so I brought him home.

Not long after that, my father discovered something unusual about him.

During a casual card game at the kitchen table, Aiden memorized every card that had been played, calculated the odds without hesitation, and caught a mistake in one of my father's betting ledgers that two experienced bookkeepers had missed.

From that day on, everything changed.

By ten, Aiden could memorize an entire ledger after reading it once. At fourteen, he was already sitting quietly beside my father during meetings, listening to grown men argue over routes, debts, and territory. By sixteen, he had negotiated his first deal for the Family and recovered money from a crew that had been skimming profits for years.

Before long, even the old capos knew his name.

The same parents who had once abandoned him suddenly came back, each trying to claim him as their son.

Aiden refused them both.

Instead, he knelt in front of my father.

"I know who was there when I had nothing, and I know who actually treated me like family."

His voice had been steady even then.

"From now on, you and Mrs. Jones are my real parents. I'll take care of both of you. And I'll take care of Nina for the rest of my life."

After that, Aiden climbed higher and higher, but he never once left me behind.

When he was first given control of a crew, he insisted that my father be brought into the business with him. When he finally earned a seat at the Moretti table, he made sure there was always a place for me beside him.

Sometimes I worried I would eventually become a burden.

Aiden only looked at me and said, "I was eight when my parents split up. Neither of them wanted me. I sat on those stairs from sunset until morning, and nobody came looking for me."

Then his eyes settled on mine.

"Except you."

"You brought me home, Nina. That night, I promised myself I'd never leave you. Without you, there would be no Aiden Moretti standing here today. I don't care how high I rise in this Family. I'll never abandon you."

That was the kind of man Aiden was.

Stubborn to the point of obsession.

Once he decided something belonged in his life, he never let go.

That was true when he fought his way to the top of the Moretti Family.

It was true when he pursued me.

And apparently, it was true when he cheated on me.

"Cheated?"

Sabrina's eyes widened.

"You grew up together. Your family practically raised him. He spent his whole life promising he'd never leave you, and he still cheated?"

She stared at me in disbelief.

"Who was she? Some rival Don's daughter? A gorgeous mafia princess? One of those terrifying women who walks into a room in diamonds and has three men killed before dinner?"

None of those.

The woman Aiden fell for was a dark-skinned, thin, ordinary-looking florist named Eryn Ziegler.

By then, Aiden had already reached the top of the Moretti Family. He had money, territory, and enough power that he no longer needed to prove himself to anyone.

So he began spending more time on the few things that genuinely interested him.

Aiden didn't care for gambling, cigars, or expensive liquor.

Instead, for reasons I never quite understood, he became fascinated with flowers.

Imported or local, expensive or cheap, common or rare, he collected them all and planted them in the private garden behind our estate.

His favorite had always been the iris I'd given him for his birthday.

Once, while tending to the garden, he told me, "This was the flower that made me interested in all the others."

He touched one of the petals carefully.

"Something so small and ordinary can become beautiful if someone gives it enough attention. That's the interesting part."

He said he loved flowers, but what fascinated him most was watching them bloom.

Inside that little garden, everything seemed to exist according to his will.

What grew, what withered, what was cut away, what was allowed to bloom.

He controlled it all.

I never understood his fascination.

To me, a flower was simply a flower. It bloomed when its time came and withered when its season ended.

Why did everything have to be controlled?

That was when Eryn Ziegler, who had been helping us carry several new pots into the garden that afternoon, suddenly looked up.