Chapter 1 — You Got Fat

“You really let yourself go, Chloe.”

Bradley Foster lifted his iced latte and looked her up and down as if she were a damaged piece of furniture someone had abandoned on the sidewalk. Then he smiled.

“You got fat.”

Chloe Bennett lowered her eyes to the thick gray sweater stretched over her stomach. She did not tell him that the weight was a four-month-old secret.

She did not tell him that what he saw beneath the cheap wool was not stress eating, laziness, or failure — it was a child whose heartbeat had already become the most protected sound in New York City.

And she certainly did not tell him that the father was Leo Moretti, the man whose name bankers whispered before approving loans, whose enemies disappeared from boardrooms overnight, and whose quiet decisions could close a nightclub, bankrupt a corporation, or bring half the docks to a standstill.

Bradley thought Chloe had ruined herself. It was safer to let him believe it.

The bell above the bakery door chimed as another customer entered. Outside, October rain streaked the windows and turned the Manhattan sidewalk silver.

Chloe had come in for a cheese Danish. That was all she’d wanted. Her lower back hurt, her sneakers felt two sizes too small around her swollen feet, and the nausea that had tortured her for weeks had finally eased enough for a craving to appear.

She’d been handing a crumpled five-dollar bill to the teenage cashier when Bradley’s voice froze her in place.

He looked almost exactly as he had the day he left her. His navy suit was tailored within an inch of perfection. His brown hair was sculpted into place, and the silver watch on his wrist cost more than Chloe’s current bank balance.

Beside him stood a tall blonde woman in a cream coat. Bradley did not introduce her. He never introduced people he considered temporary.