But he doesn’t get it. Not really. He thinks of it like an interesting backstory, like people who say they’re descended from Henry the Eighth. He has no idea how current and ongoing organized crime is in Chicago.

It’s always a dilemma in my dating life. Do I want a boyfriend who’s ignorant of the dark underside of this city? Who could never really understand my entrenchment in my family? Or do I want one of the “made men” who work for my father, cracking heads and burying bodies, with blood under his fingernails and a gun perpetually concealed on his person?

Neither, really.

And not just for those reasons.

I don’t believe in love.

I’m not denying it exists—I’ve seen it happen for other people. I just don’t believe it will ever happen for me.

My love for my family is like the roots of an oak tree. A part of the tree, necessary for life. It’s always been there, and it always will be.

But romantic love . . . I’ve never experienced it. Maybe I’m just too selfish. I can’t imagine loving somebody more than I love my own comfort and having my own way.

The idea of being controlled by someone else, doing things for their convenience instead of mine . . . no thanks. I barely tolerate that for my family. Why would I want to center my life around a man?

I pack up my briefcase. Before I leave, I sneak into Josh’s filthy, cluttered office and steal back the purchase agreements off his desk. I started them, and I plan to finish them, regardless of what Uncle Oran says. He won’t notice—I’ll be done with them before Josh would even have looked at them. With my briefcase satisfyingly heavy, I head out of the office tower on East Wacker Drive. I walk home, because my condo is only four blocks away from work.

I bought the condo just this summer. It’s in a brand-new building with a gorgeous fitness center and swimming pool. There’s a doorman, and a fantastic view from my living room up on the twenty-eighth floor.

It was past time. I’d been living in my parents’ mansion on the Gold Coast. Their house is so huge that there was plenty of space for everyone—no real reason to leave. Plus it was convenient to all be in the same house together, whenever we needed to go over business-related material.

But then Cal got married, and he and Aida found their own place. And Nessa left too, to be with Mikolaj. Then it was just me alone with my parents, with the distasteful sensation of having been left behind by my siblings.

I have no interest in getting married like they did, but I could certainly move out.

So that’s what I did. I got the condo. And I love it. I love the quiet and the space. The feeling of being on my own for the first time in my life.