Chapter 3

Ava looked down at the silver falcon crest in her hand, her brow furrowing. "Luke, what is that supposed to mean?"

Ethan let out a cold laugh and stepped up behind her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders like he belonged there.

"What else could it mean, sweetheart? My brother's always been good at playing the victim. Don't you remember what happened when we were kids? That winter, he jumped into a frozen lake on purpose just to get my parents' attention."

The moment she heard that, something in Ava's expression shifted. When she looked at me again, there was doubt in her eyes—along with disappointment.

That wasn't what happened at all.

Ethan had stolen the only thing Grandma had ever left me and thrown it into the frozen lake. I jumped in to get it back, and that was how I ended up with a fever so bad I nearly died.

No one in the family cared whether I lived or not.

It was Ava, who had come over to our house that day, who found me unconscious with a burning fever in the attic and screamed for the adults to call a doctor.

But Ethan twisted the whole story in front of our parents, sobbing that I had jumped in on purpose just to steal the spotlight.

After that, everyone looked at me with disgust.

Ava too.

She never came to see me again.

I swallowed the bitterness in my mouth and said quietly, "You have what you came for. You can leave now."

The man I had my gun on suddenly started struggling violently.

He howled, "It was you! You coward! You bastard hiding behind your family!"

Ethan's face changed instantly, and he took a step back without thinking.

"You think screwing Mr. Moretti's woman won't cost you? Even if you run to hell, the Moretti family will carve you into pieces!"

I whipped my head toward Ethan. Around me, my men looked just as stunned.

So that was it.

The Moretti family hadn't stormed my docks because they wanted territory.

They had come for Ethan.

He hadn't rushed back to steal a wedding out of love. He had come crawling home because he'd made a disaster of his life and wanted to use the Harts and my family as shields.

"Let me explain, Ava!" Ethan panicked and grabbed both of her hands, his voice rushed and messy. "It was an accident—I was set up! But I've changed! That woman came on to me, I swear. You're the only one I've ever loved!"

I looked at Ava too, holding on to one last thread of hope that she would finally see Ethan for what he was.

But Ava only took a breath, then turned her hand over and gently held his shaking fingers.

"It's okay, Ethan," she said softly, trying to calm him. "Everyone makes mistakes. What matters is that you came back safe. We'll have the wedding tomorrow. Once the Hart family steps in, Moretti won't dare touch you."

In that moment, I heard my heart break.

Her forgiveness for him ran so deep that betrayal, lies, and using her didn't seem to matter at all.

No matter what I had done for her, I could never replace Ethan.

"Paul, take these men and lock them up," I said, waving a hand tiredly.

"Luke, wait." Ava stopped me. "The wedding's been moved to tomorrow. Since you're done here, come back with us."

I stood by the car door and looked at her familiar face, but all I could think about was what the Godfather had said on the phone—the new territory up north.

In three days, I would be leaving this city.

Maybe I really did need to say goodbye.

After dinner, my father stopped me.

"Luke, Ethan told us what happened at the docks. That lunatic Moretti isn't going to let this go. Your brother's been frail since he was a kid. If those mafia animals get their hands on him, he won't survive it."

He paused, staring straight into my eyes before saying the cruel part out loud. "You're the oldest son. You should go to Moretti and take the blame for your brother. Apologize in his place."

I looked at my parents standing in front of me, and for a moment, I couldn't make a sound.

Seeing no response from me, my mother burst into tears, and my father slammed his hand hard against the table.

"What are you hesitating for, Luke?" my father shouted, pointing a finger in my face. "Ethan is your brother! He's been sickly since he was little—how is he supposed to survive men like Moretti's? You're tough, and you've been running with the crew for years. Even if they want revenge, they'll spare your life out of respect for your Godfather!"

My mother cried, "Luke, I'm begging you! We raised you all these years. You owe this family, and now it's time to pay it back!"

Amid the deafening accusations, I looked instinctively toward Ava on the couch.

She sat there with her head lowered, silent from beginning to end. She never even looked at me.

"Fine," I heard myself say, my voice rough and dry in the middle of the living room. "I'll go to Moretti and make amends. But from this day forward, I'm no longer your son. After this, we owe each other nothing."

Then I turned and walked out of the house.