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The second the private dining room door opened, a storm of confetti came down.
"Two years—two years—with zero contact. I was about to file a missing person's report." Linda crashed into me, all mock outrage. The others swarmed.
"Late to your own welcome-back dinner! Three drinks, pay up!"
I glanced sideways at Tim. He stood half a step behind me, tense. First time meeting my oldest friends; he wasn't sure how he'd be received. I squeezed his hand. His shoulders loosened.
"Everyone, meet Tim. My colleague from Milan. Also my fiancé."
The room exploded.
"Fiancé? Two years gone and you come back with a fiancé and no one knew?"
"When's the wedding? I'm being a bridesmaid!"
In the middle of the chaos, a cold voice cut in from the doorway.
"He's your fiancé. Then what am I?"
My stomach dropped. I turned.
Dante was standing in the doorway, the color drained from his face. His eyes were locked on my hand in Tim's. He was in all black, like something walked up from below.
He had been the heir to New York's largest Mafia Family.
He was now the one sitting at its head.
Two years ago, the night we ended, he told me Isobel was pregnant with his child. He said he'd confused her with the person who'd saved him. Said he owed her. I never believed anyone mistook someone in a hospital bed for two years running.
So I'd left. Scrubbed every trace of him from my life.
He had never really thought I'd go. And he had definitely never thought I'd fall for someone else.
Now he was looking at it.
Tim slid his arm around my waist. I didn't move it away.
Dante's eyes were knives, locked on me.
"Nina. This is a setup, right? You brought him to hurt me, right?"
My brows drew in. My voice stayed quiet.
"Dante. We ended two years ago."
Linda stepped in, cold. "Dante. You let her go. Why are you still here?"
He ignored her. Took another step toward me.
"I cut Isobel off. The baby—she never had it. As long as you're here, I can still come back from this."
I looked at the face I'd once loved down to the last line of it. Now it just looked like a stranger. A tired one.
"I don't love you anymore."