He wrenched hard. “Go? I own you.” His shout was raspy. “I own everything. Before you go I’ll see you destroyed. Our contract gives me everything; nothing’s in your name. It’s all invested and you can’t touch it. You’ll get not a single one of my homes. You can go back to your house in Nissequogue with all those half-breeds and rot there!”

Red-hot iron pierced her skull with rage. “Enough!” she screamed. She twisted and shoved her knee in his groin. He released his clutch, doubled in pain, and sank to the floor.

She stood over him. “I will never lose my home again. You hear? Not my home. Never! You want war? I’ll give you war.”

His shoulders heaved, and a sob tore from his throat.

Nola's anger melted into pity. She bent and touched his back. Her hand flattened his errant hair. “I’m sorry,” she was about to say, but checked herself. “We had a great ride. You were a wonderful partner. Now it’s over.”

She walked to the door, closed it behind her, and locked it. In her bedroom, she sat in the chair by the window for a long time, staring at the city’s flickering lights. Home.

CHAPTER 42

CHAPTER 42

Nola wore flat shoes, buckskin pants and a blue blazer, and a pair of diamond studs in her ears. Her hair was down, unteased, and her face clean of makeup. One look in the mirror had told her that the fever burning in her cheeks was all the blush she needed.

“Through your eyes I’m a better person,” she hummed to the chugged rhythm of the helicopter while she looked down at the Long Island Sound. She smiled at Lulu in her carrier buckled into the seat beside her. “How do you like this song? I look at myself in the mirror of your eyes, and love what you see,” she went on, testing the lyrics. “No. The me you see….”

“Me—see—” Lulu said.

“Thanks. ‘The me you see’ it will be. It’s inspired by Daniel. We’ll fly to see him later at the Potomac, okay?” She kissed the top of Lulu’s head. “Through your eyes I’m a better person,” she hummed. Regardless of Wade's put-down, the song would come out in a cohesive form—the lyrics, the beat, the tempo—even before Jean-Claude arranged the music.

Wade. His behavior bristled in her, underlined by sadness and pity. It was an ending.

The helicopter landed on the west lawn overlooking the Sound. She asked the nanny Leslie had hired—a Hong Kong-born pediatric nurse with a degree in early education—to take Lulu for a stroll on the grounds of the estate, but to keep away from the cliff.