“I can’t believe you two moved in together!” Naima squeals two months later at the small party we throw to celebrate my graduation from law school.

“You’re here in our place, so now’s probably a good time to start believing,” Jake answers.

He’s only teasing Naima, but I can’t help the secret thrill that shoots through my heart when he calls it our apartment.

Naima laughs at his rejoinder like Jake is the most charming man on earth. And I know I’m going to get treated to yet another whispered comment about how lucky I am as soon as he’s out of earshot.

Which turns out to be sooner than expected. The arm he has slung around my shoulder goes stiff while I’m explaining to Naima about my plan to take a few months off to study for the New York State bar before beginning my job search.

“See somebody I need to say hello to,” he says. Then he drops a kiss against the side of my forehead and takes off.

“Girl, he is too fine,” Naima whispers under her breath nearly as soon as he’s gone. “And he’s supporting you while you study for the bar?”

“Yeah, I’m lucky,” I answer, trying not to think about how fast he walked off. Even after we talked about how nervous I still am about navigating around his massive apartment. You trust him, I remind myself as I smile and nod in the direction of Naima’s voice.

“And this place—girl, I hope he described it for you…”

“He did. It sounds like I’m missing out on a view of the river.”

“And crazy high ceilings! How many bedrooms does this place have anyway?!””

“Six—but Jake uses one of them as a home office.”

I strain, hoping Jake and whoever he’s talking to are in hearing range. But no luck. All I can hear is the sound of glasses clinking, the hum of recently graduated law school students talking about next steps, and Frank singing about the “Summer Wind” over it all.

“Okay, lucky is an understatement,” Naima informs me. “You didn’t just hit the jackpot. That guy is like the Powerball of dudes. Like one in a billion chances! I’m glad you finally let him in.”

“Yeah, me, too…” I say, voice soft. Resisting, trying so hard to resist…

“But what does a single guy need with a place this big?”

“I guess it’s an investment property. His family owns it,” I answer.

“What does his family do again?”

Okay, I can’t do this anymore. “Nai, can you see who he’s talking to?”

I hear the creak of faux leather as Naima turns to look off in the direction Jake went. “Oh girl, you don’t have anything to worry about. He’s talking to a guy.”

Naima’s right. I have nothing to worry about with Jake. Absolutely nothing. Still, I ask, “What does the guy look like?”

“Uh…big. Muscle-y. Looks like he like dyes his hair with black paint. Not to stereotype—but a total Italian. Maybe he’s one of Jake’s relatives? Didn’t you say they live in New Jersey?”

“Maybe,” I agree, but my voice sounds distant, even to my ears.

“Ooh, wait. Now he’s following Jake upstairs. Maybe to put down his coat? I should probably find a place for mine, too. It’s a little hot in here.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “Here, give it to me and I’ll take it.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can take it myself.”

“No, let me,” I insist. “I’m still getting the hang of navigating around this place. I could use the practice.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Naima agrees. “Have I mentioned this place is huge!”

A few minutes later, I’m walking up the short set of stairs toward the front of the apartment with Naima’s jacket slung over my shoulder, even though I know there’s a perfectly suitable coat closet only a few steps away from the front door.

But upstairs is the bedroom Jake converted into a home office, and Naima’s coat gives me an excuse for being up here if he asks.

I chide myself for being silly all the way up the stairs. Then stop dead, gripping my walking stick tight. The argument is so loud I can hear their voices nearly as soon as I clear the top step. But I can’t understand their words. So I get closer.

Eavesdropping, I know. But I’ve pretty much used up all my trust issue willpower this month on moving into Jake’s upper east side apartment. Gripping Naima’s jacket like a teddy bear, I get as close as I can to the door.

“Jesus fucking Christ. You went after his moolie daughter? What would your dad say? After what his set did to us. After what he did to you!”

“Look, I know what I’m doing. I pulled a message to her dad off her laptop a few weeks ago. So she’s got a way to contact him. Maybe he’ll even come out of hiding if he hears his only daughter is living with me now.”

What’s crazy is I’m so confused at first. I’ve been playing the part of Amber Reynolds so long that I’d almost forgotten who I was when I still had my eyesight. And Amber Reynold’s parents died in a car accident. So it takes me a moment to realize who they’re talking about.

Bella Peretti.

The secret daughter of the Romano Crime Family’s head enforcer. The girl who used to bring the Italian meals her mother made down to the bad men in the basement. The girl who once tried to save a boy she knew didn’t deserve to die at such a young age.

That boy’s name was Luca. And then the truth hits me like something I tripped over without my stick to catch my fall. Luca wasn’t his full name. It was Luca Jacob Ferraro. I’ll always remember WITSEC breaking down all the players in the tragedy that ended Bella’s life as she knew it, while I lay recovering everything but my eyesight in a hospital bed.

Luca Jacob Ferraro. The name is close enough to Jake Ferra to spit at. And moreover, I recognize the voice of the guy he’s arguing with. Because it was the last voice I heard before the explosion that blinded me.