Chapter 4

Teresa's POV

Weekend in Central Park, sunlight streaming through maple leaves.

I was having a picnic with Lily, watching her chase butterflies. These were my only peaceful moments in five years.

"Mommy, look! Doggy!" Lily pointed excitedly at a golden retriever.

I followed her finger and my stomach dropped.

Becky and Noah were heading our way.

Becky wore white designer everything and sunglasses, full Upper East Side princess mode. Noah held the golden retriever's leash, his face carrying way too much attitude for a five-year-old.

I couldn't help staring at Noah. He looked so much like Clifford—same deep eyes, same jaw.

My son. My flesh and blood.

Even hating Becky and Clifford, I still felt something for this kid.

"Well, well." Becky pulled off her sunglasses, looking down at us. "Even Brooklyn rats think they belong in Central Park?"

I ignored her, quietly pulling Lily behind me.

Noah stared at my scar, then wrinkled his nose. "Mommy, why does this ugly lady keep showing up?"

That hit me like a punch to the gut.

"Don't look at her, sweetheart." Becky stroked Noah's head with a nasty smile. "Noah, have Charlie say hello to that little beggar."

Before I could react, Noah nodded eagerly. "Okay, Mommy! Charlie, go!"

He let go of the leash on purpose.

The golden retriever immediately charged at Lily, teeth showing, mean as hell.

"Ah!" Lily screamed as the dog knocked her down.

Ice-cold fury shot through me. I grabbed the fruit knife from our picnic and stepped in front of Lily. As the dog lunged with its mouth wide open, I cracked it hard on the head with the knife handle.

Its claws tore three bloody lines across my arm. Pain shot up to my shoulder.

"Mama!" Lily scrambled up, crying.

"You BITCH! How dare you hurt Charlie!" Becky shrieked. "Noah, see? This is what trash from the projects acts like!"

Noah didn't just watch—he clapped and cheered. "Good! That's what happens when they touch our stuff! Charlie, bite them!"

Hearing that, the last bit of motherly feeling in me died.

This wasn't my son. My son had died five years ago.

As the golden retriever got ready for round two, a tall figure charged over.

A strong hand grabbed the dog's collar.

"Back off."

Deep, ice-cold voice.

I looked up.

Lucas.

Black leather jacket, built like a brick wall. Years of training showed in every muscle, radiating pure danger.

He picked up that golden retriever one-handed like it was a toy and tossed it aside. The dog whimpered and ran back to Noah.

"Who... who the hell are you?!" Becky backed away, voice shaking.

Lucas ignored her, kneeling to check my arm, murder in his blue eyes.

"Got your text and came running," he said quietly, examining my wounds. "Still too late."

"I'm okay," I whispered.

"Uncle Lucas!" Lily threw herself at him. "That mean lady made her dog bite us!"

Lucas held Lily, checking her for injuries, then slowly stood up, locking eyes with Becky.

"Touch them again, you're dead."

He walked toward Becky.

"No... don't..." Becky stumbled backwards. "Do you know who I am? I'm Clifford Ashford's wife!"

Lucas slapped her so hard the sound echoed through the park.

"Apologize."

Noah saw his mom get hit and rushed forward, but Lucas shoved him aside. The kid hit the ground crying.

Becky held her face, humiliated. "Why should I apologize to these pieces of—"

Lucas slapped her again, harder. Blood appeared at her mouth.

"Last chance."

"I... I'm sorry..." Becky choked out, hatred burning in her eyes.

Then tires screamed nearby.

Clifford jumped out of a black Maybach, obviously having followed Becky.

Seeing her bruised face and me standing with Lucas, his expression went dark.

"What the hell happened? Chloe?!" Clifford rushed to help Becky up.

"Clifford! He hit me!" Becky pointed at Lucas, words slurred from swelling.

Clifford spun toward Lucas, furious. "Who do you think you are?"

"Someone who doesn't let trash hurt innocent people," Lucas said flatly.

Clifford was about to explode when he saw my torn-up arm. "Teresa! You're bleeding..."

I rolled my eyes. Lucas stepped in front of me.

Clifford stared at Lucas, jealousy and rage twisting his face. "Who... who IS this guy?!"

I looked at Clifford's pathetic expression and almost laughed.

What right did he have to question me about anything?

I stood up and casually took Lucas's arm. He immediately pulled me close.

I met Clifford's shocked stare with a cold smile.

"Him?" I said casually. "He's my fiancé."