Page 4 of Falling for Mr. Ruthless

"I wouldn't expect anything less." His voice lowers, almost intimate. Then he adds, "You always were the most dangerous person in any room."

I offer no response. Simply turn and walk away, my steps matching the mantra pulsing in my mind:Don't look back. Don't look back. Don't ever look back.

Home is a quaint pre-war brownstone in Park Slope with high ceilings and original hardwood floors.

A place I purchased to create a home for me and my child after the divorce. And it's nothing like the penthouse I shared with Jakob.

This place has character. History. Warmth.

But it doesn't have him.

I drop my keys in the ceramic bowl by the door—the one Jaden created in second grade, lopsided but perfect. Kick off my heels. Allow my shoulders to relax for the first time since dawn.

"In here!" Latanya calls from the kitchen.

I follow her voice, the aroma of something spicy guiding me. Latanya stands at my stove, stirring a pot of what appears to be her grandmother's jambalaya. Her curls piled high, casual in a way I've never mastered.

"You didn't have to cook," I say, though gratitude flows through me. Today, of all days, I need something familiar. Something that predates Jakob.

"Please." She dismisses me with a wave of her wooden spoon. "Like I was going to let you feed my godson microwave pasta again."

"That was one time." A smile breaks through despite everything as I sink onto a bar stool at the kitchen island.

"One time too many." She slides a glass of red wine toward me. "You look like you need this."

I accept without protest. "That obvious?"

"Only to me." She studies my expression with the attentiveness born from fifteen years of friendship. "Long day?"

"You could say that." I take one sip, then another.Don't mention Jakob. Don't give him that power.

But Latanya reads me too well. She leans forward, elbows on the counter. "Spill."

"It's nothing." I shake my head. "Just a new client. High stakes."

"Mmm." Skepticism radiates from her. "And does this high-stakes client have a name?"

Before I can answer, thunderous footsteps cascade down the stairs, and Jaden bursts into the kitchen, with his gangly limbs and unrestrained energy.

"Mom!" He collides with me in an embrace that nearly topples me from the stool. "Aunt Tanya's making jambalaya!"

"I see that." I smooth his curls back from his forehead, inhaling his essence—playground dirt and the coconut shampoo I use on his hair. "Did you finish your homework?"

"Almost." He wriggles free, already reaching for the freshly baked cornbread cooling on the counter. "I just have reading left."

"After dinner, then." I exchange a glance with Latanya, who nods.

"Go wash your hands, J," she instructs. "Food's almost ready."

He dashes off, and Latanya turns back to me, eyebrow arched. "So. The client?"

I exhale, lowering my voice. "It's Jakob."

Her hand freezes on the spoon. "Jakob as in?—"

"My ex-husband. Yes." I drain half the wine in one swallow. "Apparently, Novare Global Strategies is my new audit client, and no one thought to mention that the CEO was joining us.”

"Shit." She whispers it, eyes widening. "Do they know? Your bosses?"