Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 73655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“This is your father’s doing, Luna,” Tommaso tells me earnestly. He locks his gray eyes on mine, and I find no lies in those metallic depths. It’s then that I realize my life is over. “The contract was drawn up before your father died, instructing me to sign it in the event anything happened to him.”
“And that was Father’s last wish?” I sneer, causing Tommaso to flinch. As angry as I am, I can’t feel sad about him losing his brother, because I lost my father. We both came out of this war as casualties. “I’m going to be a De Rossi,” I tell him. “You realize the Cavallone line will die with me.”
And as the words fall from my lips, I realize that was the plan all along. Revenge is a bittersweet game. It’s not something done in haste. The slow, steady path always wins. And Salvatore De Rossi defeated my father one final time.
They may both be dead, but it’s our family name that will forever be lost. My uncle will never marry, and he’s never had children. I learned from eavesdropping as a child that Tommaso had problems with conceiving. He had a long-time partner, and they had both been into hospitals more times than I could count. But she left when she realized she would never have children.
Instead of becoming a good man, walking a straight path, Tommaso allowed his heartache to change him. He turned into a villain, and now, he’s just signed away my life to our family’s enemy.
“On your eighteenth birthday, you will go to him.” There is finality in his words. I can’t argue. I could try to run, but even then, I’ll be found and murdered.
There is no escape.
Only a long life of servitude to one of the mafia’s most notorious Bosses.
Chapter 3
Enzo
I’ve waited patiently.
I’m no longer patient.
As I weave through evening traffic, my mind is on what is about to happen. She knows she’s about to be given to me, but that’s how this shit goes down. An arranged marriage between the heir and heiress of two powerful families is a business transaction, nothing more.
I learned all there was to know about her. Even before she realized who I was. Now, I’m going to collect what is owed to me. Even the night of signing the contract, I took her in, watching her from up close. She’s not a woman to obey. This will not be easy. But I’ll make my father proud, one way or another.
Luna Cavallone was livid. Rightly so, but there was nothing she could do about it. Of course, her uncle, Tommaso, tried to renege on the contract after she ran off, but with the threat of me having their soldiers and their two highest-ranking capos killed, ensured he signed on the dotted line.
A smile turns my lips up at the corners as I take in the setting sun. It’s August, and as we head into fall, I look forward to the next few months as we plan the wedding.
The sky is shimmering with purples and pinks, soft colors, gentle sweeping hues of promises of another day ending. I know as I head to The Ruin, we’re possibly walking into another war zone. If they don’t try something tonight, I’ll be surprised.
Butcher and Son, an old slaughterhouse that’s been abandoned for as long as I’ve been alive, and sits like a beacon to criminal organizations within the New York area. It’s where we can safely meet, whether it’s for a deal with suppliers, or another Familia. It’s the place that allows us to talk without the threat of being overheard. How poignant that the pretty young thing will give her life over to me in an old slaughterhouse.
A lamb to the slaughter.
Another smile graces my lips, but it’s nothing short of sadistic. Happiness only comes through bloodshed. There is nothing else that brings me euphoria. I maim, I kill, and I fuck. But out of those three, fucking is merely basic instinct. The other two calm my inner devil.
Pulling up beside the familiar dark blue Mercedes Benz S Class of Valentino’s, I kill the engine of my bike, before swinging my leg over the bike. I crunch the gravel with my boots and take in my men, who followed behind me in the SUV. I prefer being on the motorcycle. I love the freedom it offers, even though it’s dangerous in my line of work, and with my last name, but I’d rather feel the cool wind on my face than be cooped up in the backseat of one of my many cars.
There are already a few SUVs parked in the lot, blacked-out windows for privacy while traveling. And I’m guessing those are bulletproof as well. It’s needed in our line of work.
I leave the helmet on my seat before I zip up my leather jacket. A chuckle escapes my lips because I know my father will be insulted by the fact that I’m not wearing a suit. There are outfits for different occasions, and this one didn’t need me to be dressed in black tie.