Chapter 2

Present day, eight years later, the scent of stale coffee and grease clung to Ava like a second skin.

She worked at a diner, the tips barely enough to keep food on the table for her and Mateo, now seven.

Miguel' s care was a black hole, swallowing every cent she made and then some.

So, Ava Rodriguez, single mother, devoted sister, became a "sugar baby."

Mr. Henderson, a local real estate developer with a paunch and wandering hands, paid for Miguel' s specialized nurses, his medication, the equipment that kept him alive.

He paid for Mateo' s shoes and school supplies.

In return, Ava endured his company, his leering comments, the expensive dinners where she felt like an exotic pet on display.

His wife, Mrs. Henderson, knew, her disdain a constant, cold pressure. Sometimes it was more than disdain, a sharp word, a public slight.

Tonight, it was a charity auction, one of Henderson's "must-attend" events for his image.

Ava wore a dress Henderson had bought, too tight, too revealing.

She sipped water, trying to ignore the knot in her stomach.

"Smile, Ava," Henderson grunted, his hand possessively on her waist. "You look miserable. People will think I'm not treating you right."

Ava forced a smile, her eyes scanning the opulent ballroom, a sea of tailored suits and glittering gowns.

Then she saw him.

Jackson "Jax" Carter stood across the room, taller than she remembered, his face harder, but unmistakably him.

He was successful now, an architect, the program notes had said, his name listed as a major donor.

On his arm was a woman, elegant and kind-looking, her name Chloe Albright, his fiancée.

Ava' s breath caught, the air suddenly too thin.

Eight years.

Eight years of scraping by, of sacrificing her dignity, of watching Miguel stare blankly at a world he could no longer touch.

And Jax was here, thriving, untouched.

The room seemed to tilt.