Chapter 2

The Godfather sounded surprised. "Luke, are you sure? Don't you need to talk to Ava first? What's happening up north won't be over in a matter of weeks."

"No, sir." I closed my eyes, but the memories of the last three years came rushing back anyway.

After the crash took her voice, Ava had been like a wounded animal, furious and desperate.

She wouldn't let anyone near her. Her room was always littered with shattered porcelain and broken glass.

More times than I could count, I risked getting sliced open by the debris just to pull her trembling body into my arms.

There's still a long scar across the back of my hand from the day she slashed me with a pair of scissors.

It took a thousand days and nights of patience and tenderness to help her crawl out of the shadow of that accident.

If the Godfather had offered me all of New York this morning, I would have turned him down without hesitation if Ava had shown even the slightest sign she wanted me to stay.

But not anymore.

She had chosen Ethan.

And now, there was nothing left for me in this city.

There was a note of quiet approval in the Godfather's voice. "Go take care of the docks. Three days from now, I'll send a helicopter for you."

Fifteen minutes later, when I got out of the car and headed for the warehouse, Paul and several dozen of my men had two groups of bloodied street thugs surrounded at gunpoint. Their weapons had already been taken.

The moment he saw me, Paul's eyes went wide.

"Boss? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in a tux right now, standing in front of a priest saying 'I do'? Or cutting that damn wedding cake?"

I shrugged off my suit jacket, tossed it onto the hood, loosened my tie, and strode toward the punk who seemed to be in charge.

"The wedding's off," I said flatly.

The area went silent at once. The men exchanged looks, but no one dared ask another question.

Paul quickly changed the subject and gave his report. "Boss, they're with the Moretti family. They'd never normally dare cross the line, but twenty minutes ago, they drove two unmarked trucks straight through the checkpoint and opened fire the second they got out. We pinned them down, but the crazy part is, no matter what we do, these bastards won't say why they came here looking to die."

My expression turned cold. I grabbed one of the men off the ground, pulled my pistol from my waistband, and pressed it against the center of his forehead.

"Who gave you the nerve to turn my docks into your personal shooting range?"

Fear flashed in his eyes.

Just then, the sound of high heels came from behind me.

I frowned and turned around.

Ava had actually left the wedding behind and followed me here.

And not far behind her was Ethan, looking smug as ever.

Ava stopped in front of me, not quite meeting my eyes. "Luke… do you still have the Hart family crest on you? I want to take it back for now."

My breathing caught.

So that was why she had come after me.

The Hart family had a silver falcon pin, a symbol of inheritance and family authority.

From the very beginning, Ava's parents had looked down on me. The only son-in-law they had ever wanted was Ethan.

So when I was forced to take his place in the engagement, they refused to hand over the token of authority no matter what my family said.

In the end, Ava was the one who forced her father to give it up.

Back then, she signed to me: It's yours. And so am I.

And now, she wanted it back.

"The wedding ceremony needs the family token to be passed on," she said softly. "Luke, believe me, in my heart, you're still the man I consider my real husband. But right now, I need to let Ethan use the crest."

I said nothing.

Without hesitation, I took it out and placed it in her palm.

"Then take it back."