"It happened a few years ago when I was still in college at Stanford. My friends and I partied a lot. Typical dumb jocks. None of us took school seriously. My best friend Dan and I were at a party away from campus. We got shit-faced, and then Dan wanted to go to another party, but I was too drunk. So he drove instead. I thought he was okay to get behind the wheel.

"Everything was fine until we got off the highway and—and sped down the ramp. There was a sharp turn, and it happened so quickly. We plowed into a group of people standing around a car.

“I remember coming to and smelling the burnt rubber, smoke, and something metallic saturating the air. Dan was hunched over in his seat, but outside there was screaming—just the worst sound I’d ever heard. I climbed out of the window and saw we’d crashed into a parked car. The ground was slippery. There was so much blood. A woman lay on the street with this gaping wound; her chest was torn open—I could see everything: her organs, her ribs. And then I tried to close her up—these huge flaps of her flesh I pinned together, but she was already—she was already dead.

"There was screaming, and I looked behind me. A little girl pinned under our car, as white as a sheet of paper. Her mother was crouching underneath—trying to lift it. Another person was smashed against the fence—he was gone. I tried to save her. I lifted the car, and her mother dragged her out, but she was so pale, and there was so much blood. Her lips kept moving, and I held her hand. I still remember how tiny it was in mine. Her eyes never closed. She kept looking from her mom and back to me and then they froze inside her head and what little warmth was in her hand faded away.

“My father hired the best defense lawyers money could buy and paid off a ton of news outlets so that his name—our name, would never get dragged through the mud. Dan got court-ordered rehab and didn't spend a day in prison. We settled with the families, but I never got past it. I—I couldn’t save them.”

Will finished speaking, his deadened voice echoing in my head.

I felt ill from all the graphic descriptions of the bodies he and his drunken friend had mangled. It was much worse than I thought. I imagined what the scene must have looked like—limbs everywhere, chunks of flesh and blood painting the concrete, the girl trapped beneath the car.

William survived unscathed. It wasn’t fair. His face was twisted and red. His eyes burned holes in my head.

“You can loathe me if you want. I’ll understand. You can’t hate me more than I hate myself.”

I was confused, stunned, and sickened by the whole thing. I felt a flash of anger for how irresponsible they were—like Gatsby and Daisy, rich, reckless people destroying lives and retreating into their wealth without a backward glance.

But Will isn’t like that.

“I think the choices you made that night were awful. It was a terrible, terrible thing, but I don’t hate you. I feel sorry for the families. And you.”

He made no move to defend himself. If I stabbed him in the chest, he wouldn’t have stopped me.

“You’re not a bad person.”

“I am.”

“You weren’t the one driving,” I whispered.

“It was my car,” he said in a sharp voice. “It was my responsibility. If I hadn’t been such a stupid, selfish moron, those people would still be alive.”

“What about the ones at the party who watched two drunk kids leave and drive away? They’re responsible, too. It’s not all on you.”

The darkness in Will’s face lightened. 

“It all makes sense now,” I sighed. “You won’t drink a drop of alcohol because you’re terrified that something bad might happen.”

“I could never apologize to them.”

He was like a hollow shell—he always looked so empty when he talked about the accident. The light behind his eyes died.

“Then visit the families. Apologize. Allow yourself to feel better.”

“They don’t want to see me.”

“You have to try.”

Visiting them wouldn’t be easy. He would have to be prepared for the hatred that would be flung in his face.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

I sat behind him and wrapped my arms around his middle. It took a lot out of him to tell me what happened that night, and I would not forget that. “Thank you for telling me.”

“I’ll understand if you want to bolt. This is an out.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

He covered my hands with his and sighed in relief. “I have to leave this place,” he blurted. “I need to see my dad in Chicago. Will you come with me?”

My face burned. I wasn’t sure how I felt about meeting Will’s dad. “What about the campaign?”

"Luke will be upset, but I'm only going to Chicago to help him." He disengaged from my arms and dressed. "I think I need to do something."

I picked at a spot on the bed sheets with my nail and glanced at him, only to look away when he met my eyes.

“Spit it out.”

“Why—why do you want me to go with you?”

He thought about it for a moment and gave me a weak smile. "I paid you for three weeks work, and we've only had sex once."

“You’re lucky that I have a sense of humor,” I groaned in frustration. “Be serious for once.”

“I like having you around.”

I stood up and took his body in my arms, nestling my head under his chin. His warmth was so comforting; I leaned into him and felt my lungs expanding, like a balloon inflating inside my chest.

I like being with you, too.

“What will you tell your dad about me? Christ, I'm working for you.”

“Technically, you’re not working directly for me. Natalie, what are you really trying to ask me?"

My face burned. The lilt in his voice suggested that he already knew what I wanted, but he would force it out of me anyways. I wasn’t interested in a fling.

"Where the hell is this headed?"

"I'm not sure, but I'm enjoying the ride."

"But you're my boss! Isn't this a--a conflict of interest?"

His hands tightened around my arms. "If I'm your boss, then you have to do what I say."

"Will!"

“I want to be with you. That's all I got for now."

I'm fine with that.

I stood on my toes and kissed his mouth, feeling giddy when he responded, his arms circling my waist and tightening.

“Okay,” he said when we broke apart. “Let’s get ready. I need to charter a flight out of here.”

I was already packed, so I walked to the bright lobby and checked my email. It was the crack of dawn. I ascended the stairs to the terrace with a plate of lemon cakes and coffee and sighed at the magnificent sunrise. The dark sky was giving way to the stretch of orange on the horizon. Puffy, pink clouds hung in the lightening blue. The colors were coming to life; the sun illuminated the brightly painted homes and the swirls of turquoise in the ocean. Such beauty just wasn’t possible. I took several pictures and attempted to sketch it, but stopped myself. It was more important to watch it. I felt an incredible sadness at the realization I would soon leave this place. It was like going to paradise and being expected to return home to a world of concrete and somehow be happy about that.

I wiped away the tears on my face and checked my email. There were several from Jessica and a couple from Ben. I drew a sharp, painful breath and clicked on his message.

Natalie,

I was upset to find out you were seeing someone else on a tabloid website, and I apologize if I came off angry. I know that I did the same thing to you after we broke up, but I was just trying to move on. I really don't think it's fair you're doing this. We should have a discussion before you make a rash decision. We've been together for six years. Why can't I have any say in what happens to our relationship? I am really depressed without you, and I've been in therapy these past few weeks. I can't move on. I feel sick to my stomach at the thought of you being with another man. Please call me when you get the chance.

Love,

Ben

My heart hammered in my chest. I didn't like the guilty feelings swirling inside me.

“It’s a load of crap.”

I slammed down the cup of coffee and hissed as it spilled over the sides. Will stood close, as silent as a shadow, reading the email over my shoulder.

“Do you mind?”

He ignored me. “Click on the next one.”

Will looked at me, refusing to move from his spot. Whatever, fine. I clicked it. The tone of this one was a lot angrier.

Natalie, what the fuck?

I feel like absolute shit, and you probably have no idea. It really hurts you would ignore me after everything we've been through. I keep seeing photos of you with that asshole. I don't understand why you like him. He sounds like a complete jerk.

Can you please tell me what I could have done differently? I tried to be a good boyfriend to you, and I was always there when you needed me. I really don't deserve to be treated this way. When you met me in the city, you made me believe that there was still hope for us. Now, I feel like you're rubbing this in my face to hurt me. Maybe you're only with this guy to piss me off. I really don't appreciate being ignored and I expect a response from you.

-Ben

“He expects a response? What are you, his property?” He let out a bellyful of laughter. “This guy is such an entitled ass. Coming from me that says a lot.”

The email made me cold all over.

“He's trying to manipulate you. You’re out in the world, living your life, and he thinks that it’s all about him. You must be doing this to hurt him, not because you’ve moved on. He’s a narcissist, and he wants you to feel guilty.”

I rubbed my arm. “I need to tell him it’s over. That we’re done.”

“You are over. You broke up almost a year ago. Don’t contact him; he’ll only send you more messages. If you ignore them, he’ll stop caring about it.”

I feel like absolute shit, and you probably have no idea.

I could hear the despair in that line of text and couldn’t stand I was making him feel bad about himself. We may have broken up, but I still cared about him.

He sank down to my level and held my arms. “Baby, listen. His problems are no longer yours. You care too much about what people think of you. He will be pissed for a while. So what?”

“Let's just change the subject.”

“I got a flight out of Genoa for this evening.”

I turned my face back toward the ocean and felt a tug on my heart. “Do we have to leave?”

He stroked me. “Yeah, but Cinque Terre will always be here. You can come back.”

* * *

It was another exhausting night of travel for all three of us. When Will’s town car arrived to pick us up from O’Hare, I collapsed into the car and almost fell asleep. When I woke up, I felt a heavy, warm weight on my lap and realized that the cat had crawled onto my lap.

“We’re here.”

The car pulled into a driveway and stopped in front of a mansion that rivaled Luke's in San Francisco. The red brick home was surrounded by color; plants and bushes of all types thrived around the house. The road circled a round pool where a large, golden fountain played. When the door opened, Tom dashed from the car to lie on the steps of the house, flailing his body in apparent ecstasy.

The light brown wooden doors opened, and a woman in her fifties emerged, dressed in white capris and a sky-blue blouse. She beamed when William swept out of the car.

Here we go, I told myself, watching his mother hurry down the steps to greet her son.

“My baby!” she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Hi, Mom,” he said without the same enthusiasm. Will hugged her, his face going pink.

His mother tossed back her dyed blonde hair and looked over his shoulder at me, a question forming on her lips. Will glanced at me. “Mom, this is Natalie.”

I slid out of the car and took her proffered hand, “Nice to meet you.”

Her dark eyes scanned mine as if she could detect any misgivings stirring inside them and I was reminded of William. His eyes had the same shape and color, and he inherited her unnerving stare. Her lips lifted into a slight smile to soften the message that was: Hurt my son in any way, and I will destroy you.

“It’s lovely to meet you. You two must be starving. Come in, I’ll fix something.”

I cast a terrified glance at William, who smiled encouragingly and wrapped his arm around my waist as his mother led the way. “Relax, my mom is nice.”

The door opened to a magnificent foyer laid with cream-colored marble. Two sweeping wooden staircases with black railings led upstairs on either side of the circular room. The archways had beautiful, intricate crown molding. Ahead was the living room and to the left was a modern kitchen with granite counters. Inwardly, I laughed at the idea of his mother visiting my apartment. 

“This is where you grew up?”

“Yeap. It’s been remodeled several times over the years.”

“Wow.”

I could imagine him and his brothers running around as children, knocking over expensive vases and banging on the white grand piano I saw in the sitting room. Even as an adult, Will had so much energy. It must have driven his parents crazy.

“You’re looking pale, William. Have you eaten anything today?”

Mrs. Pardini fussed over her son as he sat down at the kitchen table, smoothing his lapels and brushing his hair. His face bloomed, and I sniggered at him behind his mother’s back.

“Mom, stop it.”

“When was the last time you got a haircut?”

“I have no idea.”

She bustled toward the kitchen counter and picked up her phone. “I’ll make a hair appointment for you.”

I bit my knuckles hard to keep from crying out with laughter. William was mortified. “Mom, sit down,” he snapped.

She closed her phone, and her eyes narrowed. "There's no need to take that tone with me."

“Yes, there is,” he said, suddenly looking serious. “What’s this I hear about Dad selling Luke’s shares?”

My face burned as his mother scowled at him, casting me an irritated glance. “Will, you know we don’t talk about this in front of—”

“I don’t care. You can say it in front of Natalie. She already knows everything anyway.”

I grimaced at Will’s mother, who was staring at me like I had suddenly grown two heads.

“You must talk to your father about it,” she said in a final tone. “No, William. Your dad doesn’t want me talking about it to anyone. Not even you.”

“Oh, come on!” He pounded his fist on the table.

“Tell me how you met your new girlfriend.” She smiled.

Will looked pissed at her deflection. “We’re dating, Mom. And we met at a party.”

Under the kitchen table, my fingernails ground into my palms. It was so awkward. I did not want to be there. I could see her sizing me up, appraising my wardrobe and making searing judgments in her head. She pressed her lips into a firm line.

“I guess I’ll never get grandchildren from my youngest.”

My stomach dropped.

“Jesus!” Will got up from the table.

And he stormed from the kitchen, leaving me there alone. His mother turned on the spot with a smirk, not unlike her son's and zeroed in on me. My jaw fell. She needled him on purpose to get him out of the room.

Will, you bastard! Don’t leave me here alone!

“Don’t look so scared,” she said in an even voice as she sat down across from me. “You have nothing to hide, do you?”

“No, no. I’m just not used to all this.”

“What do your parents do?”

Ah, so the interrogation begins. “My parents are dentists. I’m a graphic designer.”

“Oh, where do you work?”

My face burned. “I’m unemployed, but Will offered me a contract to design logos for Luke’s campaign.”

I was going from bad to worse. Her lips whitened.

“And I suppose you thought my son would be a great career booster?”

“No!” A sickening feeling spread through my stomach when she smiled. “No, I swear to God, he contacted a recruiting agent and set up a meeting without me knowing. I never asked him for anything. He can tell you that himself.”

“Hmm,” was all she said. “Perhaps my son needs someone like you to keep him grounded. Unassuming. Humble.”

It sounded like an insult as much as a compliment. “Thanks. I didn’t even want to date him, at first.”

Why the hell did you say that?

I cringed as his mother gave me an offended look. “What’s wrong with my son?”

“Well,” I began, almost laughing out of nerves. “You know, his issues.” My voice drifted into a squeak.

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t know.”

My blood churned. “His panic attacks.”

“What are you talking about?”

She did not understand what I was talking about. My mouth trembled. He never told his parents. No one knew anything.

Jesus Christ.

I was treading on very dangerous ground.

“I shouldn’t talk about it.”

“If my son is in trouble, I deserve to know about it.”

“He’s just having a hard time coping with the accident.”

I swallowed hard at the venomous look on her face.

“Natalie, you seem like a nice girl, so I’ll return the favor and tell you this nicely. We never discuss or mention that incident in this house. Ever.”

A chill froze my lungs. “He had a panic attack while he was driving. We could have died.”

Her eyes suddenly filled with tears and I stood up from the table to walk away. Jessica had been here with Luke, and she told me that being there was one of the worst experiences in her life. Now I knew why.

I ran into Will as I turned into the foyer. The dark look on his face told me he heard everything.

Oh, shit.

“Come,” he said, gripping my wrist.

I followed him upstairs as he led me into a guest room with our luggage already inside.

The grim look on his face made me crumble. “I’m sorry. I was just angry—”

“Shit, I don’t know whether I should be impressed that you stood up to my mother or pissed that you told her something that was none of her business.”

“Oh, come on. She’s your mother. You’re a family.”

“Natalie, not all of us feel that our parents are entitled to every detail of our personal lives.”

That stung. “Meaning what?”

“Look, I understand why you did it. Just let me handle this my way, okay? I will tell them.”

"Fine," I told him. "Um—I need to call my mom."

Will chuckled and laid on the bed. “I’ll be quiet.”

I inhaled a deep breath to quiet the storm building in my head. It was always nerve-wracking to call my parents. I dialed the number and turned my back on Will.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mom. How are you?”

“Natalie! Finally! We’ve been waiting for your call. How’s Europe?”

“It was great. I’m in Chicago right now with Will.”

“Chicago? What for?”

I continued on without thinking. “He needed to see his parents.”

“Oh, so they get to meet you before we get to meet your new boyfriend?”

Shit. “No, Mom. It’s not like that.”

“What’s their house like? Are they filthy rich? What kind of cars do they have?”

My dad’s voice suddenly entered the conversation. I pressed the phone against my face, hoping that William couldn’t hear a word.

“Tom!”

“It’s a big brick mansion,” I said, ignoring their gasps. “Listen, I’ll be home soon, I think.”

“Thanksgiving is soon. We want you to bring Will over!”

“No, Mom. We’ve only been dating for a few weeks.”

“If you don’t bring him, we’ll ask Ben to come over. He’s visited us twice, Natalie. Asking where you are—what your boyfriend is like—”

“What?” I shrieked. “Do not invite my ex for Thanksgiving! I don’t want to see him!”

What the fuck is wrong with them both?

“Then bring Will over. Okay, we’ll see you soon!”

Click.

I stared at the phone in stunned disbelief. All they talked about during the whole conversation was Will. His family and their wealth fascinated them. They didn’t even ask me how I was doing. They didn’t care about the designs I made on the trip.

“Are you okay?”

I faced Will, who was sitting up on the bed and looking at me with concern. I clenched my phone and was seized with a desire to hurl it across the room.

“They will invite Ben for Thanksgiving if you don’t come with me.”

“So don’t go.”

My heart hammered. “She’ll call me ten times a day to bitch at me. Please, please, Will.”

A small sob shook my throat, and he slid off the bed, looking frustrated with me but gathering me in his arms.

"I've never asked you for anything. Come over for Thanksgiving, and they'll shut up about you. They just want to fawn over you."

“I don’t mind meeting them, Natalie. The only thing that bothers me is the reason you want me there.”

“What do you mean?”

“You only want me there to appease your parents.”

I pulled away from him. “That’s not true!”

“Then why the reluctance?”

“Because you’ll hate it. They’ll suck up to you because you’re rich. I don’t want you to think badly of them.”

He rolled his eyes at me. "Is that all? I'm used to that. Don't worry; I'll be there."

I stammered thanks as he grabbed my waist and I remembered the time alone with him in Cinque Terre. He kissed me and warmth spread to my toes; his tongue flicked inside my mouth, and I felt my muscles unknotting.

His hands wandered down my jeans, and I kissed him more urgently as desire shot upwards the more he touched me. He slipped under my jeans and played with my panties, squeezing my bare flesh. I heard myself moan, and I knew he remembered that night, too.

“William!”

We sprang apart as his mother called for him outside the door. He grimaced and tried to shift his pants so that his erection wasn’t so obvious.

“Yes?”

“Your father is here.”

“Okay, I’ll be down there soon.”

We heard her walk away.

"He has the worst timing." Will slid his arm around my waist and planted a kiss on my neck. "I've got to talk to him, and you have got to come with me."

“What?” I yelped. “No way.” I found the idea of meeting his father, much, much worse.

“He knows you’re here. C’mon.”

He slapped my ass and grinned as I scowled at him. The door flew open, and he tugged me forward, even though I wanted to dig in my heels.

A lightning bolt seared up my spine as I heard him downstairs, talking in a low voice. William laughed at me as I stopped on the staircase.

“Keep going, doll. Or I’ll keep squeezing your ass.”

Doll?

A ruthless pinch made me start forward. I ignored William’s deep laughs as I descended the staircase. We passed the marble foyer and entered a living room, which contained a white grand piano and a gold painting ceiling; we crossed over and entered the next room, which was a dark-brown study. I halted at the threshold, but William continued inside.

Domenico Pardini, CEO of Pardini Worldwide, sat behind a mahogany desk with a phone to his ear. William stopped in front of the desk and crossed his arms, waiting for his father to get off the phone.

The Pardini patriarch was a thin reed of a man, with a wiry mustache and angry, dark eyes. He still wore a business suit and looked terrifying because his face was devoid of any joy. He stood up from the desk, revealing a lean, skinny waist.

“Goodbye.”

Will’s father hung up the phone and glared at his son.

“You are not supposed to be here, William.”

I knew what he meant. We came back early from the campaign because William felt he had to return to Chicago. I was hoping to slink out of the room, unnoticed.

“Thanks, Dad. Hello to you, too.”

“Who is that?”

At that unfortunate moment, Mr. Pardini acknowledged my presence. I stepped into the room, my legs trembling.

William looked surprised to see me standing all the way in the back. He waved me over. “This is Natalie. She’s the graphic designer for the campaign.”

Will, I’m going to kill you.

Mr. Pardini was looking for something polite to say. “I see. And—er—you brought her here because?”

“I’m also dating her.”

I wanted to die. Please someone just shoot me. Mr. Pardini opened his mouth angrily, but William interrupted.

“Dad, I’m here because I found out you’re in a lawsuit with Luke. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Mr. Pardini stepped around the desk. For a moment, I thought he would hit his son. “It was none of your concern. I wanted you to focus on the campaign which you’ve decided to just drop.”

“Is it true? Are you trying to stiff him out of his shares?”

Mr. Pardini's hot glare flashed in my direction, and I took a step backward. He didn't want me there. He grabbed the half-empty glass of amber liquid on his desk and took a small sip.

“Yes, it’s true. Giacomo and I were planning to do this with all of you. It’s time to break up the empire.”

A heavy silence followed his words, with only the sounds of Domenico sipping his drink and my pounding heart filling my head.

“What? What are you talking about?”

"Lots of family members want out. They want their money, now. Breaking up the empire was something Giacomo, and I had been talking about for years. It's time, and both of us realized that our sons were incapable of managing an empire."

“You will butcher the empire our family has spent generations building?”

“I have no choice. Did you think Luke was the only lawsuit I’m dealing with?” Will gaped at him as he walked across and studied a painting. “Most of the family’s money is in corporations owned by trusts. I will sell all the companies we own and liquidate Pardini holdings.”

“Dad, you can’t—”

"I am the sole trustee for the family. There's nothing I can't do. I am selling Luke's shares, and I am giving him an appropriate amount for the deals he has made for the company. Everyone else will get the same treatment."

Will gave a frustrated sigh. “Just give him the money, Dad. He’s already been screwed over by his father.”

Mr. Pardini wheeled on his son. “You think that just because you’re a Pardini, you’re entitled to be wealthy? The trusts were meant to meet your reasonable needs. That’s it. They were designed to enhance the family’s position through donations and investments. They were not meant to make individual billionaires!”

His voice rang in the small room, echoing in my ears.

"I am old, son. And I'm being hounded by my nephew, cousins, and every member of the family with a trust. They want out, and I am tired of dealing with this. If your grandfather knew what had happened to this family, he would spin in his grave."

He almost seemed to limp back to his chair behind the desk. He looked tired.

“I’m sorry that you had to witness this,” he said, addressing me suddenly.

I forgot my presence. “Oh, uh—it’s fine.”

We chatted; he asked me the same questions his wife had, but William said nothing. He leaned against the wall with his arms folded, looking disturbed.

What am I going to tell Jessica?

Mr. Pardini wasn’t selling the shares out of greed, as I assumed. He was following a principle they were only entitled to the amount of money and work they had put into the family’s advancement. Frankly, it seemed fair. Then I thought of Luke, who had been disappointed by his father’s will—and now his uncle was, in his eyes, giving him a meager amount for his shares.

“Well, it was nice meeting you, Natalie.”

“Yes, Mr. Pardini.” I leaned forward and shook his hand, Will watching me out of the corner of his eyes.

That was my cue to leave. I walked out of his office and wiped my hands on my jeans.

“That wasn’t so bad.”

Will scoffed as we ascended the staircase back to the room. He opened the door for me, and I walked in, startled by the violent look on his face.

“What the hell am I going to tell my cousin?” 

I lifted my shoulders. “Honestly, what can you do? Your dad has all the power and his argument made sense.”

He paced the room like a caged animal. “I should be able to do more. He’s one of us. He deserves what’s owed to him. God, this family is so fucked. This will ruin us.” Will sank to the bed and stared at the floor.

An odd feeling swept through me. Why was he so upset over this? Was this really about Luke anymore?

“When I first met you, you were thrilled that Luke’s dad was dead because he was out of the running for CEO. Now, you’re getting upset because he’s not inheriting his millions?”

A pained look crossed over his face. “I feel guilty about it. He’s getting screwed over.”

"You can't control your dad's actions any more than you could control the accident."

William’s eyes were livid. “Please, don’t.”

His hands gripped the edge of the bed, whitened with panic, and I dropped my gaze.