Layla
I turned the car down my street, smiled a little as the brownstone rowhouse came into view. I could practically smell the wonderful dinner I was about to cook for my family. The bag of groceries in my passenger seat would go entirely to that meal—but it was worth it if it was the one I shared with Nonna and Eli.
It was only as I pulled the car into the driveway that I noticed the man crouched at my front door.
A man in a black suit. A dark-haired man with bronzed skin and wide shoulders and a face that looked beautiful drenched in rain.
Talking to my son.
I cut the ignition and leapt from the car without bothering to grab the groceries. My shoes crunched against stone as I ran. I recognized that man.
Vasco—no.
My teeth clenched and my footsteps slowed. The man in the suit stoo
