“It can be annulled.” Even the word tastes bitter in my mouth. It’s the last thing I want, but my father was right. Neither of us needs to sign anything for the mob boss of the Watkins family to make it happen.
There’s a beat of silence and then he hangs up without saying goodbye. I’ve just broken his heart, and I hate myself for it.
I hate my family. My father especially.
Rage flows through me, swift and hot. When it burns out, I feel…nothing. I’ll never let anyone hurt me like this again.
Chapter 1
~Elena~
Beep! Beep! Beep!
I roll over and kill the alarm. I’ve been awake for at least an hour already, lying in my warm, cozy bed, watching the sky turn from black to purple to blue. I’ve always been an early riser, which is why my job is so perfect for me.
Baby animals need their breakfast, and at the Oregon Coast Wild Animal Rescue, I’m the lucky woman who gets to feed them.
I stretch my arms over my head and then sit up, letting the blankets fall around my hips, exposing my naked body to the crisp morning air.
Summer is waning, and it won’t be long before I have to turn on the heat. But I’ve been clinging to the season with all of my might. Once winter arrives, we’ll have more rain and grey days than I care to think about. So, I plan to hold on to these nice summer moments for as long as I can.
I throw a robe around my shoulders, slide my feet into slippers, and pad downstairs to my small kitchen.
I live in what I lovingly refer to as a cottage. That’s probably too grand a word for my little cabin in Oregon. My bedroom is a loft upstairs, and down below, I only have a kitchen, a small living space, and an efficient bathroom.
But it’s only me here, so it fits me just fine. In the six years that I’ve lived in Bandon, Oregon, I’ve never needed more than this.
I come from mansions and a life of privilege, yet nothing has ever made me feel as safe as this.
I pop a pod in my Keurig, set my Blow me, I’m hot mug on the counter, and as my first cup of coffee brews, I step out onto the deck that gives me just a tiny peek at the ocean. The sky is clear today, and the wind is calmer than usual, so I make a mental note and promise myself I’ll take a walk on the beach this afternoon after work and lunch with my friend, Lindsey.
With another deep breath, I turn back inside and pour some cream into my coffee, then carry it with me into the living room.
This is my typical morning routine, seven days a week, whether rain or shine. I sit on a small pillow in the corner of the room, crisscross applesauce, close my eyes, and begin my meditation.
I go to my happy place in my mind.
It’s on a boat at a marina in Seattle with Archer. Even after all these years, following drama and hurt and more shit than I care to dwell on, it’s always Archer I think about when I go to my happy place.
His smile. His gentle hands. Archer was my safe place, my constant source of stability in a life that was anything but stable.
When you’re the daughter of a mob boss, life is damn scary.
Three minutes later, with a clear mind and relaxed shoulders, I retrieve my coffee and go about the rest of my routine. Shower. Makeup. Hair up in a ponytail.
When I’m dressed and have another cup of coffee in my trusty Girls rule! to-go mug, I set off for work in my old, rusted-out Buick. Saying it’s second-hand is too kind. It was most likely fifth-hand.
But it does the job and gets me to and from just fine.
It also doesn’t draw any unwanted attention.
It’s a ten-minute drive to the rescue. I park in my usual spot and walk into the nursery, which is dimly lit as soft music plays through Bluetooth speakers.
It feels like a spa. Like someone’s going to hand me a robe and a cup of tea and lead me back to a massage room.
But instead, we have mountain lion cubs, raccoon kits, and a baby sloth, all waiting for my attention.
“Hey, Ally.”
I smile, used to being called Ally now. I changed my name when I moved to Bandon, complete with a credit history, passport, and driver’s license. All after I spent two years in California under a different name. Unfortunately, I ran into a school friend unexpectedly at the vineyard that I worked at and had to run again.
The mob has connections for a girl who needs to disappear.
“Good morning, Chad.” I smile at the man, who’s feeding one of the mountain lion cubs with a bottle. “How did it go last night?”
“Pretty normal,” he says. “Cleaned up a bunch of poop and fed roughly four hundred bottles.”
I laugh at the exaggeration, although there have been times when it felt like that many.
“Is everyone healthy?”
“Raccoon kit red didn’t want to eat,” he says with a frown, nodding at the pen behind me. “Keep an eye on her.”
“Will do. Thanks.”
We tie strings of different colors around the animals’ necks so we can tell them apart from each other and keep accurate records on each one.
I love this job. It’s exactly what I always wanted to do, even when I was a little girl. I’m fiercely protective of it, and I don’t even care that I work six hours a day, seven days a week since we lost an employee last year and haven’t replaced her.
This is where I’m needed, and I love it.
Really. I do.
“Thanks for meeting me for lunch,” my friend, Lindsey, says with a happy sigh as we sit in our booth at the diner downtown. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“I know. We had two bear cubs come in a couple of weeks ago after their mother was poached, and they require around-the-clock care. Work’s just been really busy.”
“Ally, you need to have more than wild animals in your life.”
“No.” I sip my Coke. “I don’t.”
“Sure, you do. You’re a young, vibrant, beautiful woman. You need a man.”
I shake my head.
“A woman?”
I laugh and sip my drink again. “I don’t have time or the need for a relationship.”
“We make time for the things that are important to us,” she says with absolute sincerity in her voice. “I know some single guys—”
“Seriously. I’m fine.”
“Okay.” She sighs and smiles at the waitress who’s just appeared to take our order. “Hey, Kate. I’ll have the chicken salad sandwich with fries.”
“Taco salad for me,” I say, and we pass her our menus. “What have you been up to?”
“Work, mostly.”
I raise a brow. “Hi there, pot, I’m kettle.”
She snorts. “I know, I sound like a hypocrite. The spa has been super busy this summer with the crazy tourist season.”
Lindsey manages the spa for a big resort that sits right on the water. I met her three summers ago when I went in for a massage that had been a gift from my boss.
“So, you must have broken things off with Peter?”
She wrinkles her nose. “Peter was a jerk. He brought me coffee to work one day—”
“Totally a jerk.”
“—and he also had two donuts with him. He ate them both in front of me. I mean, what kind of monster does that?”