Page 7 of Heartless Game

But when the nondescript dream lover’s face I imagined turned into Isaac Jones’ obnoxiously attractive one—with his dark, wavy hair a weaker woman would want to run her hands through; strong, sharp jaw, and high, sculpted cheekbones that would makeanyoneswoon, and piercing brown eyes that promised retribution in a way that made my thighs clench—I stuffed my head into my pillow and screamed. Not to mention his towering height, broad shoulders, and abs upon abs upon abs…

Stop it, Tovah.

“I think it went fine,” I said, shrugging and tossing my curly hair. This month, it was a bright hot millennial pink. Everyone thought I was some rebel, but I dyed my hair to keep those from my past from finding me and exacting their revenge.

It was being-in-hiding 101. Most people would choose a basic, natural hair color, figuring that they wouldn’t stick out and therefore no one would notice them. But I knew better: sometimes hiding in plain sight was the best approach. I changed my hair color regularly, opting for big, bold, sometimes neon colors, with the rationale that no one would look at a girl with bright pink or green hair and think, “Oh, she must be hiding from the mafia.”

Besides, I liked it. It was fun. It made me feel like I at least had a little control over my life.

Aviva shook her head lovingly, seeing right through my denial. She knew I was attracted to Isaac.

“You know, if you showed up wearing one of the many jerseys you have of his, he might be more willing to give you the interview. You’d look real cute with JONES written across your back, don’t you think?”

“Stop matchmaking,” I growled, even as I could feel my entire face go pink, matching my hair. “It’s never going to happen.”

Aviva didn’t knowwhyIsaac and I would never happen. It wasn’t only that he hated me—I assumed because he didn’t trust journalists, given his family’s notoriety.

I knew why I hated him, though. Or why I was supposed to.

Even though Isaac had forgotten me, I’d grown up near him. I’d always had a crush on the dark-haired little boy with the dimples, who was kind to everyone, including me, even though my mom—who didn’t trust his family—made me promise to never tell him my name. The crush was one from afar, for the most part: He was the boy prince, heir to his family’s criminal Brooklyn dynasty. And I was just the lowly maid’s daughter.

That was, until his father’s closest friend and second-in-command decided to marry my mom when I was six, raising us up from the lowly “help” to…well, still the help but less lowly. Mark Berner had seemed like the perfect stepfather…at first. It didn’t matter that I was no longer the maid’s daughter: my mom refused to let me tell Isaac who I was. She didn’t trust the Silvers or the people who worked for them, not even Mark—and she was right not to.

It didn’t take long before fists started flying, and my mom started wearing long sleeves and cover up. Even at six, even though she’d tried to hide what was going on from me,I knew. I knew what the crying and begging at night meant, and why she’d become so timid and would tremble as soon as he got home from whatever violent work he did for Abe Silver.

My mom did her best to protect me, until she couldn’t anymore. Until the abuse got worse and worse. Until he started threatening to kill us.

And that’s when she—whenwe—took drastic measures to make sure he couldn’t hurt either of us anymore. That’s when we changed our last names and went on the run.

Before we’d left, there’d been Isaac. We’d only played together once or twice, only spoken a few times, but I never forgot any of them—especially the last.

I promise to protect you, bashert, as long as you promise to always be here.

I promise, Isaac.

Then why won’t you tell me your name?

Because I like when you call me your soulmate.

I shook my head. That had been a long time ago. I’d learned quickly that Isaac was a Silver through and through. The Silvers were our enemy, chasing us for so long we’d never be free.

But Isaac? If I could corner him, and get him to confess to his father’s crimes, I’d finally have the evidence to get Abe Silver put away for good, destroy their dynasty…and my mom and I would finally,finally, be free. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, that Isaac had been trained by his family to keep their secrets close to the chest. But I had an ace up my sleeve—a good one.

“Tovah?” Aviva placed a hand on my arm, looking concerned. “What did I say? Where’d you go? You had that million-miles-away look on your face again.”

A million miles and fifteen years.I cleared my throat.

“Just planning out the interview,” I said brightly.

“Riiiiiight,” Aviva said. “I’m onto you, Tovah Kaufman. You’re hiding something, and I’m going to find out what it is.”

I laughed, like I had no idea what she was talking about. I hated lying to my best friend, but she couldn’t know the truth. She couldn’t know what my mom and I had done; she couldn’t even know my real last name. Not only would she hate me for it, knowing would get her killed. She was the only real friend I had. I refused to be the reason for her death, even if that meant I had to hide the truth from her.

At that moment, the door to the locker room opened, the team filing out in regular clothes. Jack nodded at me, before turning his attention to Aviva.

“Wife,” he said.

“We’re not married yet,” she protested, laughing.

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