Alyssa was furious as she sped away from the house in her shiny silver Porsche.

How dare he? She was the mother of his child!

She found herself in front of a massive apartment complex outside the city.

She was fishing for a key from her purse in the security door. She didn't bother to alert anyone she was coming. She took the elevator up to the penthouse and let herself in.

She stepped into the large and open studio. It had wood flooring and ample, tall windows with a great city view.

An oversized black leather couch and two matching chairs sat in the center of the room, overlooking the view. The matching glass and black coffee table had photos scattered all over it. Most of them were of her and just a couple of other models.

A photo studio was set up in the corner of the ample living space, with a state-of-the-art camera and lighting system. They did most of her portfolio shots here.

The room opened to a kitchen that wasn't near her own quality. It had decent granite counters and a small but workable island. However, it was cute.

She heard footsteps coming from the hall to the side of the kitchen.

"Is someone here?" A female voice called.

"It's me, Becks," Alyssa said as she entered the kitchen, looking for wine.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" The redhead emerged from the hallway with a yawn. Alyssa supposed one may call them best friends, but Alyssa didn't care enough about her to call her that. At the very least, she was her oldest friend.

Despite living in the States for over a decade, she had a strong British accent that hadn't faded. That, coupled with her wide blue eyes and a dash of freckles across her cheeks, made her seem much more innocent than she could ever be—an attribute she used heavily to her advantage.

She was wearing a red silk robe over matching pajamas. She motioned for Alyssa to grab one more glass as she pulled a wine glass from the cabinet.

"Rocco and I got into a huge fight," Alyssa explained as she poured two glasses.

"What else is new?" Becks laughed haughtily as she took the glass from her.

"He threatened divorce," Alyssa said at the wrong moment because Edward had stepped out just as she spoke.

"What!?" The thin man with dark blonde wavy hair, deep-set blue eyes, and a charmingly boyish face strode toward her. In an instant, the charm was gone. His eyes darkened, his sharp cheekbones seemed sharper, and his thin lips pursed into an angry frown.

As expected, he was pissed. He could be the most charming thing one second and the most intimidating the next. It was impressive.

"What did you do, Alyssa!?" He practically roared. "Have I not done everything I can for your career? Do I not work night and day, trying everything to get you back into the limelight?"

"Please dial down the dramatics, Eddy." Alyssa rolled her eyes, and Becks snickered, only angered him more.

"You think this is funny, Rebecca?" His glare landed on his sister. "You do realize if I lose this studio, I will toss your worthless arse out with the rest of the rubbish."

"Nice, Edward," Rebecca said, a cross look on her face. "How did I get so lucky to have such a supportive brother?"

"You talk to me about support? I handed you a golden little life on a silver platter, and you tarnished it. Like everything you touch!"

She opened her mouth to defend herself, but Alyssa cleared her throat to stop her.

"Just go to bed, Becks." Alyssa gave her a pointed look. Once these two started fighting, there was no telling where it would stop.

"Fine." She said, grabbing the entire bottle of wine and her glass. "Just keep it down, will you? I do need my beauty rest."

"Eddy, he's not going to divorce me," Alyssa said once she had left the room.

"Damn it, Ali," He slammed a fist down on the counter. A move that would make most people jump, but she was used to his theatrics by now.

"Thanks for the concern for me," she pouted and crossed her arms deliberately over her heavy chest. "He was awful to me tonight."

"I am well aware of how easily you place yourself into the role of the victim." He moved closer to her. "I suggest you tell me what you're going to do to fix this."

"He's full of it." She shrugged. "He was trying to scare me into agreeing to whatever his demands are."

"What demands?" he asked.

"I don't know. Balance, more time with Gavin. Stuff I already do!" She said, her eyes widening. "He just refuses to see it!"

"Is this about the New York trip?" he asked, pacing the apartment. "When I told you to make it happen. I assumed you were smart enough to understand; that meant making it happen in a way that doesn't cost us everything!"

"Will you please just settle down," she sighed, feeling a headache coming on. "We're not going to lose the apartment."

They were fortunate Rocco didn't understand much about the modeling industry. If he did, he would know that models don't have to pay for their studio time. Luckily, he was too uninterested in her career to ever question it. He'd hit the roof if he found out the studio time he pays for is rent on Edward's apartment and his personal studio. Especially now with his brother's ex-fiancé living here.

"You'd be smart to make sure of that," he gave her a warning glance.

"I'm the one making all the sacrifices." She snapped back as she pulled another bottle of wine from the cabinet. "I'm miserable here, Eddy, and you couldn't care less. I was supposed to be a huge star by now. I wasn't supposed to be stuck."

"Don't talk to me about sacrifices. You made your choices. I never would have advised you to sign that prenup." He reminded her yet again. "I'm alone here while you share your bed with that glorified man-boy."

She laughed out loud at that. "Oh please. I know about your extracurricular activities. I'm not an idiot."

He snatched the bottle of wine from her hands just as she was about to open it.

"We don't have time for happy hour. You have a marriage to fix," he said, literally pushing her toward the door.

**

Rocco sat outside staring off into space for what felt like forever. He hadn't expected the conversation to go much better than that, but he'd hoped. He wasn't one to go around making empty threats, but once he said the word, it started to feel very real. The idea of putting Gavin through a divorce terrified him.

He unlocked his phone and hovered over Dante's contact information for a long moment before finally deciding it best not to call his brother for advice this time. Dante hated Alyssa and opposed the marriage from the very beginning. It was probably better not to ask his opinion on this. No, this was a decision he had to make himself. A decision he wanted to make with Alyssa. But he didn't see how that was possible if she wouldn't even have the conversation.

He wondered when and where it all went so wrong. He could still recall the evening Dante and Rebecca had introduced him to Alyssa. She was full of fire and passion. They'd spent that entire night on the rooftop of the penthouse he was renting at the time, talking, laughing, and kissing before he knew it until they couldn't breathe and had to come up for air.

It was what someone might call a whirlwind romance, but Rocco considered it more like a tornado. She'd come into his life so quickly, and so abruptly it was like being caught in a windstorm without a chance to come down.

It wasn't until that fateful night, only a week before their wedding when Dante came home to a half-empty closet and a 'dear John' letter from Becks that he started to open his eyes.

Rebecca had confessed in the letter that she couldn't go through with the wedding because she didn't love Dante as much as he loved her. She cared for him deeply but wouldn't marry him under false pretenses. She'd left town shortly after.

Lexi assumed the pretenses meant that she planned to marry Dante for his money and decided not to. She didn't say that specifically, but Rocco had to admit it sounded that way. Alyssa swore then and to this day that she genuinely thought Rebecca loved Dante. She promised Rocco over and over that she was never after his money. She said she'd make so much when she got famous that the idea would be laughable.

But the doubts had been cast, and the first dark cloud floated above their heads. Even though she promised that if they were ever to marry, she'd sign a prenup to prove to him that she wanted nothing to do with his money. His feelings for her had started to shift. A certain tension seemed to hang in the air between them. Even on 'good' nights when they didn't end up fighting, which had started to happen more frequently.

The trouble with a whirlwind is it always comes down at some point, and when it did, Rocco didn't see it anymore, a future with Alyssa. He was ready to end things, and then she came to him in tears and told him she was pregnant.

She was many things back then. Wild, impulsive, determined, strong, blunt, vindictive, and even manipulative at times. But she was never vulnerable. Not once in the entire time he had known her had she ever shown him an ounce of fear or insecurity, until that night. She opened up to him that night like she'd never had. She confessed how scared she was. She even talked a little about growing up with Katherine and how she learned nothing from her about being a mother.

Dante and Breanna may believe she manipulated the situation and got pregnant to trap him. But they didn't see her that night. She was vulnerable, raw, and more genuine than ever.

He took the reins that night; he had to. He promised her she wouldn't be a single mother like Katherine was. He swore to her he'd make everything okay.

Well, he failed because it wasn't; nothing was okay.

"Damn, if I haven't tried," he said out loud.

He suddenly had an overwhelming urge to see his son. He got up from the table and headed inside. The house was so quiet and so sterile. He hated this house. It didn't feel like a home. It felt like a showroom.

He made his way upstairs and noticed Gavin's door was already open. He peeked inside, and his heart dropped when he saw the empty bed. Had Gavin woken up when they were fighting? The idea of his son once again hearing them fight broke his heart. He had a pretty good idea of where he went and headed back downstairs.

He hesitated at the stairwell; he didn't want to wake Dani. However, he needed to know that Gavin was safe and sound for his peace of mind. He slowly crept down the stairs. She had left a small nightlight on so he was able to see. He made his way to her room and saw her door was ajar.

He very quietly stepped just close enough to peek in.

Gavin was wrapped up in her arms and clutching her treasured teddy bear in his. A blanket was tucked around them, a peaceful look painted across his son's sleeping face.

A lump formed in his throat as he stood there gazing down at them for a long moment. To any outsider, it would look like a mother was holding her son, maybe after he had had a nightmare. The reality, though, was anything but. It was a wonderful aunt comforting her nephew after he heard a terrible fight that probably scared him. Rocco suddenly felt like a failure of a father.

He very carefully left the basement and tip-toed back upstairs. He was about to settle on the couch when Alyssa let herself back in.

"Didn't think I'd see you till morning."

"Don't sleep on the couch again." Her voice was softer than usual as she caught his gaze.

"Where would you suggest I sleep then?" he shot back.

"Rocco, I'm sorry," she said slowly, and he could see it pained her to say it. "You took me by surprise. I... I know we've struggled. I didn't know you were thinking of leaving me."

"You know how much the idea of being left alone with a child scares me, Rocco." She continued, and he could see the genuine fear in her eyes. "I don't want to end up like Katherine."

"You know I'd never leave my son," he said. "I didn't say I was leaving. You, on the other hand, did leave."

"After you threatened divorce."

"I didn't threaten anything." He argued. "I said we have some things I want to fix, and you blew up."

"Cause I'm trying, and you don't see it," she pleaded. "Then, you say you'll divorce me out of nowhere!"

"I said I wanted to try and fix us. You refused. What else am I supposed to say?" He felt the anger start to rise again.

"Not that!" she exclaimed in a hushed whisper.

"I can't have this conversation now," Rocco sighed. "I'm exhausted, and I'm done fighting for tonight.

"I don't want to fight either," she said, closing the distance between them; she kissed him suddenly and intensely.

"What are you doing, Alyssa?" he grunted as he pulled away.

"You say you want to fix things. I think we both know where to start," she said in a husky voice, pressing her body against his.

"Lys...please." His eyes met hers, and he saw it, just a flicker, but he saw that vulnerability she'd had in her eyes that fateful night.

His emotions were raw, and he was still angry, but he kissed her back roughly.

He lay flat on their shared bed sometime later, staring up at the ceiling. That was the first time they had made love in a very long time, but it wasn't that. There was no love; it was angry and rough. They'd used each other to release the pent-up emotions from their fight, and then they went silent.

She rolled to her side to face the wall and fell asleep in moments, and he turned to his side so he was facing away from her.

He didn't feel a sense of renewal or a newfound spark. He felt nothing, just empty. 

A single tear slid down his cheek as he lay there restlessly.