AYLA
One Year Later.
Lake Como.
All it took to have the reality check passed on to anyone was either death of a loved one, poverty, or a betrayal.
Mine had been loss. Betrayal. Lies.
And I'd decided I needed to fix my shits together and move up the ladder.
So yeah, Millie and I had moved to Chicago.
My black Sorel boots brushed against the cobblestone in front of dad's grave. Black Moncler cashmere turtleneck draped in black down coat. Sophia Kent, my secretary, had picked the outfit for today.
I stared at the gravestone.
Wills Thorne
45 Years.
Warrior and dad.
I wondered why those words suddenly felt like a slap.
Not like they hadn't felt that way a year ago.
But I'd wondered why.
Why he'd lied to me. Why he'd made an utter fool out of me.
I'd trusted him, and he'd betrayed my trust by working with men who had ended up dealing his fate like they were God.
I pushed the large black tinted glass framing my face into place.
