My fingers shook like leaves in the breeze as I raised them, my heartbeat hummingbird quick.

Luca’s strong hand was firm and steady as he took mine and slipped the ring onto my finger.

White gold with twenty small diamonds.

What was meant as a sign of love and devotion for other couples was nothing but a testament of

his ownership of me. A daily reminder of the golden cage I’d be trapped in for the rest of my life.

Until death do us part wasn’t an empty promise as with so many other couples that entered the holy

bond of marriage. There was no way out of this union for me. I was Luca’s until the bitter end. The

last few words of the oath that men swore when they were inducted into the mafia could just as well

have been the closing of my wedding vow:

“I enter alive and I will have to get out dead.”

I should have run when I still had the chance. Now, as hundreds of faces from the Chicago and

New York Familias stared back at us, flight was no longer an option. Nor was divorce. Death was the

only acceptable end to a marriage in our world. Even if I still managed to escape Luca’s watchful

eyes and that of his henchmen, my breach of our agreement would mean war. Nothing my father could

say would prevent Luca’s Familia from exercising vengeance for making them lose face.

My feelings didn’t matter, never had. I’d been growing up in a world where no choices were

given, especially to women.

This wedding wasn’t about love or trust or choice. It was about duty and honor, about doing

what was expected.

A bond to ensure peace.

I wasn’t an idiot. I knew what else this was about: money and power. Both were dwindling

since the Russian Mob ‘The Bratva’, the Taiwanese Triad, and other crime organizations had been

trying to expand their influence into our territories. The Italian Familias across the US needed to lay

their feuds to rest and work together to beat down their enemies. I should be honored to marry the

oldest son of the New York Familia. That’s what my father and every other male relative had tried to

tell me since my betrothal to Luca. I knew that, and it wasn’t as if I hadn’t had time to prepare for this

exact moment, and yet fear corseted my body in a relentless grip.

“You may kiss the bride,” the priest said.

I raised my head. Every pair of eyes in the pavilion scrutinized me, waiting for a flicker of

weakness. Father would be furious if I let my terror show, and Luca’s Familia would use it against us.But I had grown up in a world where a perfect mask was the only protection afforded to women and

had no trouble forcing my face into a placid expression. Nobody would know how much I wanted to

escape. Nobody but Luca. I couldn’t hide from him, no matter how much I tried. My body wouldn’t

stop shaking. As my gaze met Luca’s cold gray eyes, I could tell that he knew. How often had he

instilled fear in others? Recognizing it was probably second nature to him.

He bent down to bridge the ten inches he towered over me. There was no sign of hesitation,

fear or doubt on his face. My lips trembled against his mouth as his eyes bored into me. Their

message was clear: You are mine.

Three years prior

I was curled up on the chaise longue in our library, reading, when a knock sounded. Liliana’s

head rested in my lap and she didn’t even stir when the dark wooden door opened and our mother

stepped in, her dark blond hair pulled back tightly and fasted in a bun at the back of her head. Mother

was pale, her face drawn with worry.

“Did something happen?” I asked.

She smiled, but it was her fake smile. “Your father wants to talk to you in his office.”

I carefully moved out from under Lily’s head and put it down on the chaise. She drew her legs

up against her body. She was small for an eleven year old, but I wasn’t exactly tall either with five

foot four. None of the women in our family were. Mother avoided my eyes as I walked toward her.

“Am I in trouble?” I didn’t know what I could have done wrong. Usually Lily and I were the

obedient ones; Gianna was the one who always broke the rules and got punished.

“Hurry. Don’t let your father wait,” Mother said simply.

My stomach was in knots when I arrived in front of Father’s office. After a moment to stifle my

nerves, I knocked.

“Come in.”

I entered, forcing my face to be carefully guarded. Father sat behind his mahogany desk in a

wide black leather armchair; behind him rose the mahogany shelves filled with books that Father had

never read, but they hid a secret entrance to the basement and a corridor leading off the premises.

He looked up from a pile of sheets, grey hair slicked back. “Sit.”

I sank down on one of the chairs across from his desk and folded my hands in my lap, trying not

to gnaw on my lower lip. Father hated that. I waited for him to start talking. He had a strange

expression on his face as he scrutinized me. “The Bratva and the Triad are trying to claim our

territories. They are getting bolder by the day. We’re luckier than the Las Vegas familia who also has

to deal with the Mexicans but we can’t ignore the threat the Russians and the Taiwanese pose any

longer.”

Confusion filled me. Father never talked about business to us. Girls didn’t need to know about

the finer details of the mob business. I knew better than to interrupt him.

“We have to lay our feud with the New York Familia to rest and combine forces if we want to

fight back the Bratva and the Triad.” Peace with the Familia? Father and every other member of Chicago Outfit hated the Familia. They had been killing each other for decades and only recently

decided on ignoring each other in favor of killing off the members of other crime organizations, like

the Bratva and the Triad. “There is no stronger bond than blood. At least the Familia got that right.”

I frowned.

“Born in blood. Sworn in blood. That’s their motto.”

I nodded but my confusion only grew.

“I met with Salvatore Vitiello yesterday.” Father met with the Capo dei Capi, the head of the

New York mob? A meeting between New York and Chicago hadn’t taken place in a decade and the

last time hadn’t ended well. It was still referred to as the Bloody Thursday. And Father wasn’t even

the Boss. He was only the Consigliere, the adviser to Fiore Cavallaro who ruled over the Outfit and

with it the crime in the Midwest.

“We agreed that for peace to be an option we had to become family.” Father’s eyes bored into

me and suddenly I didn’t want to hear what else he had to say. “Cavallaro and I agreed that you would

marry his oldest son Luca, the future Capo dei Capi of the Familia.”

I felt like I was falling. “Why me?”

“Vitiello and Fiore have been talking on the phone several times in the last few weeks, and

Vitiello wanted the most beautiful girl for his son. Of course, we couldn’t give him the daughter of

one of our soldiers. Fiore doesn’t have daughters, so he said you were the most beautiful girl

available.” Gianna was just as beautiful, but she was younger. That probably saved her.

“There are so many beautiful girls,” I choked. I couldn’t breathe. Father looked at me as if I

was his most prized possession.

“There aren’t many Italian girls with hair like yours. Fiore described it as golden.” Father

guffawed. “You are our door into the New York Familia.”

“But, Father, I’m fifteen. I can’t marry.”

Father made a dismissive gesture. “If I were to agree, you could. What do we care for laws?”

I gripped the armrests so tightly, my knuckles were turning white, but I didn’t feel pain.

Numbness was working its way through my body.

“But I told Salvatore that the wedding would have to wait until you turn eighteen. Your mother

was adamant you be of age and finish school. Fiore let her begging get to him.”

So the Boss had told my father the wedding had to wait. My own father would have thrown me

into the arms of my future husband now. My husband. A wave of sickness crashed over me. I knew

only two things about Luca Vitiello; he would become the head of the New York mob once his father

retired or died, and he got his nickname ‘The Vice’ for crushing a man’s throat with his bare hands. I

didn’t know how old he was. My cousin Bibiana had to marry a man thirty years her senior. Lucacouldn’t be that old, if his father hadn’t retired yet. At least, that’s what I hoped. Was he cruel?

He’d crushed a man’s throat. He’ll be the head of the New York mob.

“Father,” I whispered. “Please don’t force me to marry that man.”

Father’s expression tightened. “You will marry Luca Vitiello. I shook hands on it with his father

Salvatore. You will be a good wife to Luca, and when you meet him for the Engagement celebrations,

you’ll act like an obedient lady.”

“Engagement party?” I echoed. My voice sounded distant, as if a veil of fog covered my ears.

“Of course. It’s a good way to establish bonds between our families, and it’ll give Luca the

chance to see what he’s getting out of the deal. We don’t want to disappoint him.”

“When?” I cleared my throat but the lump remained. “When is the engagement party?”

“August. We haven’t set a date yet.”

That was in two months. I nodded numbly. I loved reading romance novels and whenever the

couples in them married, I’d imagined how my wedding would be. I’d always imagined it would be

filled with excitement and love. Empty dreams of a stupid girl.

“So I’m allowed to keep attending school?” What did it even matter if I graduated? I would

never go to college, never work. All I’d be allowed to do was to warm my husband’s bed. My throat

tightened further and tears prickled in my eyes, but I willed them not to fall. Father hated it when we

lost control.

“Yes. I told Vitiello that you attend an all-girls Catholic school, which seemed to please him.”

Of course, it did. Couldn’t risk that I got anywhere near boys.

“Is that all?”

“For now.”

I walked out of the office as if in trance. I’d turned fifteen four months ago. My birthday had felt

like a huge step toward my future, and I’d been excited. Silly me. My life was already over before it

even began. Everything was decided for me.

***

I couldn’t stop crying. Gianna stroked my hair as my head lay in her lap. She was thirteen, only

eighteen months younger than me, but today those eighteen months meant the difference between

freedom and a life in a loveless prison. I tried very hard not to resent her for it. It wasn’t her fault.

“You could try to talk to Father again. Maybe he’ll change his mind,” Gianna said in a soft

voice.

“He won’t.”

“Maybe Mama will be able to convince him.”

As if Father would ever let a woman make a decision for him. “Nothing anyone could say or dowill make a difference,” I said miserably. I hadn’t seen Mother since she’d sent me into Father’s

office. She probably couldn’t face me, knowing what she’d condemned me to.

“But Aria—”

I lifted my head and wiped the tears from my face. Gianna stared at me with pitiful blue eyes,

the same cloudless summer sky blue as my own. But where my hair was light blond hers was red.

Father sometimes called her witch; it wasn’t an endearment. “He shook hands on it with Luca’s

father.”

“They met?”

That’s what I’d wondered as well. Why had he found time to meet with the head of the New

York Familia but not to tell me about his plans to sell me off like a better *****? I shook off the

frustration and despair trying to claw their way out of my body.

“That’s what Father told me.”

“There has to be something we can do,” Gianna said.

“There isn’t.”

“But you haven’t even met the guy. You don’t even know how he looks! He could be ugly, fat

and old.”

Ugly, fat and old. I wished that were the only features of Luca I had to worry about. “Let’s

google him. There have to be photos of him on the internet.”

Gianna jumped up and took my laptop from my desk, then she sat down beside me, our sides

pressed against each other.

We found several photos and articles about Luca. He had the coldest gray eyes I’d ever seen. I

could imagine only too well how those eyes looked down at his victims before he put a bullet in their

heads.

“He’s taller than everyone,” Gianna said in amazement. He was; in all the photos he was

several inches taller than whoever stood beside him, and he was muscled. That probably explained

why some people called him the Bull behind his back. That was the nickname the articles used and

they called him the heir of businessman and club owner Salvatore Vitiello. Businessman. Maybe on

the outside. Everybody knew what Salvatore Vitiello really was, but of course nobody was stupid

enough to write about it.

“He’s with a new girl in every photo.”

I stared down at the emotionless face of my future husband. The newspaper called him the most

sought after bachelor in New York, heir to hundreds of millions of dollars. Heir to an imperium of

death and blood, that’s what it should say.

Gianna huffed. “God, girls are throwing themselves at him. I suppose he’s good looking.”“They can have him,” I said bitterly. In our world a handsome exterior often hid the monster

within. The society girls saw his good looks and wealth. They thought the bad boy aura was a game.

They fawned over his predator-like charisma because it radiated power. But what they didn’t know

was that blood and death lurked beneath the arrogant smile.

I stood abruptly. “I need to talk to Umberto.”

Umberto was almost fifty and my father’s loyal soldier. He was also Gianna’s and my

bodyguard. He knew everything about everyone. Mother called him a scandalmonger. But if anyone

knew more about Luca, it was Umberto.

***

“He became a Made Man at eleven,” Umberto said, sharpening his knife on a grinder as he did

every day. The smell of tomato and oregano filled the kitchen, but it didn’t give me a sense of comfort

as it usually did.

“At eleven?” I asked, trying to keep my voice even. Most people didn’t become fully initiated

members of the Mafia until they were sixteen. “Because of his father?”

Umberto grinned, revealing a gold incisor, and paused in his movements. “You think he got it

easy because he’s the Boss’s son? He killed his first man at eleven, that’s why it was decided to

initiate him early.”

Gianna gasped. “He’s a monster.”

Umberto shrugged. “He’s what he needs to be. Ruling over New York, you can’t be a *****.”

He gave an apologetic smile. “A wuss.”

“What happened?” I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know. If Luca had killed his first man at

eleven, then how many more had he killed in the nine years since?

Umberto shook his shaved head, and scratched the long scar that ran from his temple down to

his chin. He was thin, and didn’t look like much, but Mother told me few were faster with a knife than

him. I’d never seen him fight. “Can’t say. I’m not that familiar with New York.”

I watched our cook as she prepared dinner, trying to focus on something that wasn’t my churning

stomach and my overwhelming fear. Umberto scanned my face. “He’s a good catch. He’ll be the most

powerful man on the East coast soon enough. He’ll protect you.”

“And who will protect me from him?” I hissed.

Umberto didn’t say anything because the answer was clear: nobody could protect me from Luca

after our wedding. Not Umberto, and not my father if he felt so inclined. Women in our world

belonged to their husband. They were his property to deal with however he pleased.

The last couple of months had gone by too fast no matter how much I wanted time to slow, to

give me more time to prepare. Only two days until my engagement party. Mother was busy ordering

the servants around, making sure the house was spotless and nothing went wrong. It wasn’t even a big

celebration. Only our family, Luca’s family and the families of the respective heads of New York and

Chicago were invited. Umberto said it was for safety reasons. The truce was still too fresh to risk a

gathering of hundreds of guests.

I wished they’d cancel it altogether. For all I cared, I didn’t have to meet Luca until the day of

our wedding. Fabiano jumped up and down on my bed, a pout on his face. He was only five and had

entirely too much energy. “I want to play!”

“Mother doesn’t want you to race through the house. Everything needs to be perfect for the

guests.”

“But they aren’t even here!” Thank God. Luca and the rest of the New York guests would arrive

tomorrow. Only one more night until I’d be meeting my future husband, a man who killed with his

bare hands. I closed my eyes.

“Are you crying again?” Fabiano hopped off the bed and walked up to me, slipping his hand

into mine. His dark blonde hair was a mess. I tried to smooth it down but Fabiano jerked his head

away.

“What do you mean?” I’d tried to hide my tears from him. Mostly I cried at night when I was

protected by darkness.

“Lily says you cry all the time because Luca has bought you.”

I froze. I’d have to tell Liliana to stop saying such things. It would only get me in trouble. “He

didn’t buy me.” Liar. Liar.

“Same difference,” Gianna said from the doorway, startling me.

“Shhh. What if Father hears us?”

Gianna shrugged. “He knows that I hate how he sold you like a cow.”

“Gianna,” I warned, nodding toward Fabiano. He peered up at me. “I don’t want you to leave,”

he whispered.

“I’m not leaving for a long time, Fabi.” He seemed satisfied with my answer and the worry

disappeared from his face and was replaced by his up-to-no good expression. “Catch me!” he

screamed and stormed off, pushing Gianna aside as he darted past her. Gianna tore after him. “I’ll kick your ***, you little monster!”

I rushed into the corridor. Liliana poked her head out of her door and then she too ran after my

brother and sister. Mother would have my head if they smashed another family heirloom. I flew down

the stairs. Fabiano was still in the lead. He was fast, but Liliana had almost caught him while Gianna

and I were too slow in the high heels my mother forced us to wear for practice. Fabiano dashed into

the corridor leading into the west wing of the house and the rest of us followed. I wanted to shout at

him to stop. Father’s office was in this part of the house. We’d be in so much trouble if he caught us

playing around. Fabiano was supposed to act like a man. What five-year-old acted like a man?

We passed Father’s door and relief washed over me, but then three men rounded the corner at

the end of the corridor. I parted my lips to shout a warning, but it was too late. Fabiano skidded to a

halt but Liliana ran into the man in the middle with full force. Most people would have lost their

balance. Most people weren’t six foot five and built like a bull.

I jerked to a halt as time seemed to grind to a stop around me. Gianna gasped beside me, but my

gaze was frozen on my future husband. He was looking down at the blond head of my little sister,

steadying her with his strong hands. Hands he’d used to crush a man’s throat.

“Liliana,” I said, my voice shrill with fear. I never called my sister by her full name unless she

was in trouble or something was seriously wrong. I wished I was better at hiding my terror. Now

everyone was staring at me, including Luca. His cold gray eyes scanned me from head to toe,

lingering on my hair.

God, he was tall. The men beside him were both over six feet but he dwarfed them. His hands

were still on Lily’s shoulders. “Liliana, come here,” I said firmly, holding out a hand. I wanted her far

away from Luca. She stumbled backward, then flew into my arms, burying her face against my

shoulder. Luca raised one black eyebrow.

“That’s Luca Vitiello!” Gianna said helpfully, not even bothering to hide her disgust. Fabiano

made a sound like an enraged wildcat and stormed toward Luca, and started pummeling his legs and

stomach with his small fists. “Leave Aria alone! You don’t get her!”

My heart stopped right then. The man to Luca’s side took a step forward. The outline of a gun

was visible under his vest. He had to be Luca’s bodyguard, though I really couldn’t see why he

needed one.

“No, Cesare,” Luca said simply and the man stilled. Luca caught my brother’s hands in one of

his, stopping the assault. I doubted he’d even felt the blows. I pushed Lily toward Gianna who

wrapped a protective arm around her, then I approached Luca. I was scared out of my mind, but I

needed to get Fabiano away from him. Maybe New York and Chicago were trying to lay their feud to

rest, but alliances could break in a blink. It wouldn’t be the first time. Luca and his men were still theenemy.

“What a warm welcome we get. That’s the infamous hospitality of the Outfit,” said the other

man with Luca; he had the same black hair but his eyes were darker. He was a couple of inches

smaller than Luca and not as broad, but it was unmistakable that they were brothers.

“Matteo,” Luca said in a low voice that made me shiver. Fabiano was still snarling and

struggling like a wild animal, but Luca held him at arm-length.

“Fabiano,” I said firmly, gripping his upper arm. “It’s enough. That’s not how we treat guests.”

Fabiano froze, then gazed up at me over his shoulder. “He’s not a guest. He wants to steal you

away, Aria.”

Matteo chuckled. “This is too good. I’m glad Father convinced me to come.”

“Ordered you,” Luca corrected, but he didn’t take his eyes off of me. I couldn’t return his gaze.

My cheeks blazed with heat at his scrutiny. My father and his bodyguards made sure that Gianna, Lily

and I weren’t around men very often, and the ones he let near us were either family or ancient. Luca

was neither family, nor old. He was only five years older than me, but he looked like a man and made

me feel like a small girl in comparison.

Luca let go of Fabiano and I pulled him toward me, his back against my legs. I folded my hands

over his small heaving chest. He didn’t stop glaring at Luca. I wished I had his courage, but he was a

boy, an heir to my father’s title. He wouldn’t be forced to obey anyone, except for the Boss. He could

af ord courage.

“I’m sorry,” I said, even if the words tasted foul. “My brother didn’t mean to be disrespectful.”

“I did!” Fabiano shouted. I covered his mouth with my palm and he squirmed in my hold but I

didn’t let him go.

“Don’t apologize,” Gianna said sharply, ignoring the warning look I shot her. “It’s not our fault

that he and his bodyguards take up so much room in the corridor. At least, Fabiano speaks the truth.

Everyone else thinks they need to blow sugar up his *** because he’s going to be Capo—”

“Gianna!” My voice was like a whip. She snapped her lips shut, staring at me with wide eyes.

“Take Lily and Fabiano to their rooms. Now.”

“But—” She glanced behind me. I was glad I couldn’t see Luca’s expression.

“Now!”

She grabbed Fabiano’s hand and dragged him and Lily away. I didn’t think my first encounter

with my future husband could possibly have gone any worse. Bracing myself, I faced him and his men.

I expected to be greeted by fury, but I found a smirk on Luca’s face instead. My cheeks were burning

with embarrassment, and now that I was alone with the three men, nerves twisted my stomach. Mother

would freak out if she found out I wasn’t dressed up for my first meeting with Luca. I was wearingone of my favorite maxi dresses with sleeves that reached my elbows, and I was silently glad for the

protection all the fabric offered me. I folded my arms in front of my body, unsure of what to do. “I

apologize for my sister and brother. They are—” I struggled for a word other than rude.

“Protective of you,” Luca said simply. His voice was even, deep, emotionless. “This is my

brother Matteo.”

Matteo’s lips were pulled into a wide grin. I was glad he didn’t try to take my hand. I didn’t

think I could have kept my composure if either of them had moved any closer. “And this is my right

hand, Cesare.” Cesare gave me the briefest nod before he returned to his task of scanning the corridor.

What was he waiting for? We didn’t have assassins stashed in secret trap doors.

I focused on Luca’s chin and hoped it appeared as if I was actually looking at his eyes. I took a

step back. “I should go to my siblings.”

Luca had a knowing expression on his face, but I didn’t care if he saw how uncomfortable, how

scared he made me. Not waiting for him to excuse me – he wasn’t my husband nor my fiancé yet – I

turned and quickly walked off, proud that I hadn’t given in to the urge to run.

***

Mother tugged at the dress Father had chosen for the occasion. For the meat show, as Gianna

called it. No matter how much Mother tugged though, the dress didn’t get any longer. I stared at myself

in the mirror uncertainly. I’d never worn anything that revealing. The black dress was clinging to my

butt and waist, and ended at my upper thighs; the top was a glittery golden bustier with black tulle

straps. “I can’t wear that, Mother.”

Mother met my gaze in the mirror. Her hair was pinned up; it was a few shades darker than

mine. She was wearing a floor-length elegant dress. I wished I was allowed something that modest.

“You look like a woman,” she whispered.

I cringed. “I look like a hooker.”

“Hookers can’t afford a dress like that.”

Father’s mistress had clothes that cost more than some people spent on a car. Mother put her

hands on my waist. “You have a wasp waist, and the dress makes your legs look very long. I’m sure

Luca will appreciate it.”

I stared down at my cleavage. I had small breasts, even the push-up effect of the bustier

couldn’t change that. I was a fifteen-year-old dressed up to look like a woman.

“Here.” Mother handed me five-inch black heels. Maybe I’d reach Luca’s chin when I wore

them. I slipped into them. Mother forced her fake smile onto her face and smoothed down my long

hair. “Hold your head high. Fiore Cavallaro called you the most beautiful woman of Chicago. Show

Luca and his entourage that you are more beautiful than any women in New York too. After all, Luca’s

knows almost all of them.” The way she said it I was sure she’d read the articles about Luca’s

conquests as well, or maybe Father had told her something.

“Mother,” I said hesitantly, but she stepped back. “Now go. I’ll come after you, but this is your

day. You should enter the room alone. The men will be waiting. Your father will present you to Luca

and then we’ll all come together in the dining room for dinner.” She’d told me this dozens of times

already.

For a moment, I wanted to take her hand and beg her to accompany me; instead I turned and

walked out of my room. I was glad that my mother had forced me to wear heels in the last few weeks.

When I arrived in front of the door to the fireplace lounge on the first floor in the west wing, my heart

was beating in my throat. I wished Gianna was at my side, but Mother was probably warning her to

behave right now. I had to go through this alone. Nobody was supposed to steal the show from the

bride-to-be.

I stared at the dark wood of the door and considered running away. Male laughter rang out

behind it, my father and the Boss. A room filled with the most powerful and dangerous men in the

country and I was supposed to go in. A lamb alone with wolves. I shook my head. I needed to stop

thinking like that. I’d made them wait too long already.

I gripped the handle and pressed down. I slipped in, not yet looking at anyone as I closed the

door. Gathering my courage, I faced the room. Conversation died. Was I supposed to say something? I

shivered and hoped they couldn’t see it. My father looked like the cat that got the cream. My eyes

sought Luca and his piercing stare rendered me motionless. I held my breath. He put down a glass

with a dark liquid with an audible clank. If nobody said something soon, I’d flee the room. I quickly

scanned the faces of the gathered men. From New York there were Matteo, Luca and Salvatore

Vitiello, and two bodyguards: Cesare and a young man I didn’t know. From the Chicago Outfit there

were my Father, Fiore Cavallaro, and his son, the future head Dante Cavallaro, as well as Umberto

and my cousin Raffaele whom I hated with the fiery passion of a thousand suns. And off to the side

stood poor Fabiano who had to wear a black suit like everyone else. I could see that he wanted to run

toward me to seek solace, but he knew what Father would say to that.

Father finally moved toward me, put a hand on my back and led me toward the gathered men

like a lamb toward slaughter. The only man who looked positively bored out of his mind was Dante

Cavallaro; he had only eyes for his Scotch. Our family had attended the funeral of his wife two

months ago. A widower in his thirties. I would have felt pity for him if he didn’t scare me senseless,

almost as much as Luca scared me.

Of course Father steered me straight toward my future husband with a challenging expressiif he expected Luca to fall on his knees from awe. Going from his expression, Luca might as well

have been staring at a rock. His gray eyes were hard and cold as they focused on my father.

“This is my daughter, Aria.”

Apparently, Luca hadn’t mentioned our embarrassing encounter. Fiore Cavallaro spoke up. “I

didn’t promise too much, did I?”

I wished the ground would open and swallow me whole. I had never been submitted to so

much…attention. The way Raffaele looked at me made my skin crawl. He’d been initiated only

recently and had turned eighteen two weeks ago. Since then he’d been even more obnoxious than

before.

“You didn’t,” Luca said simply.

Father looked obviously put off. Without anyone noticing Fabiano had snuck up behind me and

slipped his hand into mine. Well, Luca had noticed and was staring at my brother, which brought his

gaze entirely too close to my ***** thighs. I shifted nervously and Luca looked away.

“Maybe the future bride and husband want to be alone for a few minutes?” Salvatore Vitiello

suggested. My eyes jerked in his direction and I didn’t manage to hide my shock fast enough. Luca had

noticed but he didn’t seem to care.

My father smiled and turned to leave. I couldn’t believe it.

“Should I stay?” Umberto asked. I gave him a quick smile, which disappeared when my father

shook his head. “Give them a few minutes alone,” he said. Salvatore Vitiello actually winked at Luca.

They all filed out until only Luca, Fabiano and I were left.

“Fabiano,” came my father’s sharp voice. “Get out of there now.”

Fabiano reluctantly let go of my hand and left, but not before sending Luca the deadliest look a

five-year old could manage. Luca’s lips quirked. Then the door closed and we were alone. What had

Luca’s father’s wink meant?

I peeked up at Luca. I had been right: with my high heels, the top of my head graced his chin. He

looked out of the window. He didn’t spare me a single glance. Dressing me up like a hooker didn’t

make Luca any more interested in me. Why would he be? I’d seen the women he dated in New York.

They would have filled out the bustier better.

“Did you choose the dress?”

I jumped, startled that he’d spoken. His voice was deep and calm. Was he ever anything but?

“No,” I admitted. “My father did.”

Luca’s jaw twitched. I couldn’t read him and it was making me increasingly nervous. He

reached into the inside of his jacket and for a ridiculous second I actually thought he was pulling a

gun on me. Instead he held a black box in his hand. He turned toward me and I stared intently at his black shirt. Black shirt, black tie, black jacket. Black like his soul.

This was a moment millions of women dreamed off, but I felt cold when Luca opened the box.

Inside sat a white gold ring with a big diamond in the center sandwiched between two marginally

smaller diamonds. I didn’t move.

Luca held out his hand when the awkwardness between us reached its peak. I flushed and

extended my hand. I flinched when his skin brushed mine. He slipped the engagement ring on my

finger, then released me.

“Thank you,” I felt obligated to say the words and even look up into his face, which was

impassive, though the same couldn’t be said for his eyes. They looked angry. Had I done something

wrong? He held out his arm and I linked mine through it, letting him lead me out of the lounge and

toward the dining room. We didn’t speak. Maybe Luca was disappointed enough with me that he’d

cancel the arrangement? But he wouldn’t have put the ring on my finger if that were the case.

When we stepped into the dining room, the women of my family had joined the men. The

Vitiellos hadn’t brought female company. Maybe because they didn’t trust my Father and the

Cavallaros enough to risk bringing women into our house.

I couldn’t blame them. I wouldn’t trust my father or the Boss either. Luca dropped his arm and I

quickly joined my mother and sisters, who pretended to admire my ring. Gianna gave me a look. I

didn’t know what my mother had threatened her with to keep her silent. I could tell that Gianna had a

scathing comment on the tip of her tongue. I shook my head at her and she rolled her eyes. Dinner was

a blur. The men discussed business while we women remained quiet. My eyes kept drifting toward

the ring on my finger. It felt too heavy, too tight, entirely too much. Luca had marked me as his

possession.

***

After dinner the men moved on to the lounge to drink and smoke and discuss whatever else

needed to be discussed. I returned to my room, but couldn’t fall asleep. Eventually, I put a bathrobe

over my pajamas, slipped out of my room and crept downstairs. In a fit of craziness, I took the

passage that led to the secret door behind the wall in the lounge. My Grandfather thought it was

necessary to have secret escapes in the office and the fireplace lounge because that’s where the men

of the family usually held their meetings. I wondered what he thought would happen to the women

after the men had all fled through the secret passage?

I found Gianna with her eyes pressed against the peephole of the disguised door. Of course, she

was already there. She whirled around, eyes wide but relaxed when she spotted me.

“What’s going on in there?” I said in a whisper worrying the men may overhear us.

Gianna moved to the side, so I could peer through the second peephole. “Almost everyone’s

already gone. Father and Cavallaro have details to discuss with Salvatore Vitiello. It’s only Luca and

his entourage now.”

I squinted through the hole, which gave me a perfect view of the chairs crowded around the

fireplace. Luca leaned against the marble ledge of the fireplace, legs casually crossed, a glass of

Scotch in his hand. His brother Matteo lounged in an armchair beside him, legs wide apart and that

wolfish grin on his face. Cesare and the second bodyguard they’d called Romero during dinner sat in

the other armchairs. Romero looked to be the same age of Matteo, so around eighteen. Barely men by

society’s standard, but not in our world.

“It could have been worse,” Matteo said, grinning. He might not have looked quite as deadly as

Luca, but something in his eyes told me he was only able to hide it better. “She could have been ugly.

But, holy ****, your little fiancée is an apparition. That dress. That body. That hair and face.” Matteo

whistled. It seemed as if he was provoking his brother on purpose.

“She’s a child,” Luca said dismissively. Indignation rose in me, but I knew I should be glad that

he didn’t look at me like a man looked at a woman.

“She didn’t look like a child to me,” Matteo said, then clucked his tongue. He nudged the older

man, Cesare. “What do you say? Is Luca blind?”

Cesare shrugged with a careful glance at Luca. “I didn’t look at her closely.”

“What about you, Romero? You got functioning eyes in your head?”

Romero looked up, then quickly looked back down to his drink.

Matteo threw his head back and laughed. “Fuck, Luca, did you tell your men you’d cut their

dicks off if they looked at that girl? You aren’t even married to her.”

“She’s mine,” Luca said quietly, sending a chill down my back with his voice, not to mention

his eyes. He looked at Matteo, who shook his head. “For the next three years, you’ll be in New York

and she will be here. You can’t always keep an eye on her, or do you intend to threaten every man in

the Outfit. You can’t cut off all of their dicks. Maybe Scuderi knows of a few Eunuchs who can keep

watch over her.”

“I’ll do what I have to,” Luca said, swirling the drink in his glass. “Cesare, find the two idiots

who are supposed to guard Aria.” The way my name rolled off his tongue made me shiver. I didn’t

even know I had two guards now. Umberto had always protected me and my sisters.

Cesare left immediately and returned ten minutes later with Umberto and Raffaele, both looked

butt-hurt that they’d been summoned like dogs by someone from New York. Father was a step behind

them.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Father asked.

“I want to have a word with the men you chose to protect what’s mine.”

Gianna huffed beside me, but I pinched her. Nobody could know we were listening in on this

conversation. Father would throw a fit if we revealed the position of his secret door.

“They are good soldiers, both of them. Raffaele is Aria’s cousin, and Umberto has worked for

me for almost two decades.”

“I’d like to decide for myself if I trust them,” Luca said. I held my breath. That was as close to

an insult as he could get without actually insulting my father openly. Father’s lips thinned, but he gave

a curt nod. He remained in the room. Luca stepped up to Umberto. “I hear you are good with the

knife.”

“The best,” Father interjected. A muscle in Luca’s jaw twitched.

“Not as good as your brother, as rumor has it,” Umberto said with a nod toward Matteo who

flashed him a shark grin. “But better than any other man in our territory,” Umberto admitted

eventually.

“Are you married?”

Umberto nodded. “For twenty-one years.”

“That’s a long time,” Matteo said. “Aria must look awfully delicious in comparison to your old

wife.” I stifled a gasp.

Umberto’s hand twitched an inch toward the holster around his waist. Everyone saw it. Father

watched like a hawk but didn’t interfere. Umberto cleared his throat. “I’ve known Aria since her

birth. She is a child.”

“She won’t be a child for much longer,” Luca said.

“She will always be a child in my eyes. And I’m faithful to my wife.” Umberto glared at

Matteo. “If you insult my wife again, I’ll ask your father for permission to challenge you in a knife

fight to defend her honor and I’ll kill you.”

This would end badly.

Matteo inclined his head. “You could try.” He bared his white teeth. “But you would not

succeed.”

Luca crossed his arms, then gave a nod. “I think you are a good choice, Umberto.” Umberto

stepped back, but kept his gaze fixed on Matteo who ignored him.

Luca’s eyes settled on Raffaele and he dropped whatever civility had cloaked the monster

within until that point. He moved so close to Raffaele that my cousin had to tilt his head back to return

the stare. Raffaele tried to keep his expression arrogant and self-confident, but he looked like a

Chihuahua pup trying to impress a Bengal tiger. Luca and he might as well have been two differentspecies.

“He’s family. Are you honestly going to accuse him of having an interest in my daughter?”

“I saw how you looked at Aria,” Luca said, never taking his eyes off of Raffaele.

“Like a juicy peach you wanted to pluck,” Matteo threw in, enjoying this entirely too much.

Raffaele’s eyes darted toward my father, looking for help.

“Don’t deny it. I know want when I see it. And you want Aria,” Luca growled. Raffaele didn’t

deny it. “If I find out you are looking at her like that again. If I find out you are in a room alone with

her. If I find out you touch as much as her hand, I will kill you.”

Raffaele flushed red. “You aren’t a member of the Outfit. Nobody would tell you anything even

if I raped her. I could break her in for you.” God, Raf aele shut your mouth. Couldn’t he see murder

in Luca’s eyes? “Maybe I’ll even film it for you.”

Before I could even blink, Luca had thrown Raffaele to the ground and dug a knee into his

spine, one of my cousin’s arms twisted back. Raffaele struggled and cursed, but Luca held him fast.

One of his hands gripped Raffaele’s wrist while he reached under his vest with the other, pulling out a

knife.

My legs turned weak. “Leave now,” I told Gianna in a whisper. She didn’t listen.

Look away, Aria.

But I couldn’t. Father would surely stop Luca. But Father’s expression was disgusted as he

stared down at Raffaele. Luca’s eyes sought Father’s gaze – Raffaele wasn’t his soldier. This wasn’t

even his territory. Honor demanded he got permission from the Consigliere – and when my father

gave a nod, he brought the knife down and cut Raffaele’s pinky off. The screams rang in my ears when

my vision turned black. I bit down on my fist to stifle a sound. Gianna didn’t. She let out a screech

that could have woken the dead before she threw up. At least, she’d turned and aimed away from me.

Her vomit spilled down the steps.

Behind the doors, silence reigned. They had heard us. I gripped Gianna’s upper arms when the

secret door was ripped open, revealing Father’s furious face. Behind him stood Cesare and Romero,

both with their weapons drawn. When they saw Gianna and me, they returned them to the holsters

under their jackets.

Gianna didn’t cry. She seldom did, but her face was pale and she leaned heavily against me. If I

didn’t have to hold her up, my own legs would have crumpled. But I had to be strong for her.

“Of course,” Father hissed, scowling at Gianna. “I should have known it was you causing

trouble again.” He wrenched her away from me and into the lounge, raised his hand and slapped her

hard across the face.

I took a step in his direction to protect her and Father lifted his arm again. I braced myself forthe slap, but Luca caught my father’s wrist with his left hand. His right hand was still grasping the

knife he’d used to cut off Raffaele’s finger. The knife and Luca’s hand were coated with blood. My

eyes widened. Father was the master of the house, the master over us. Luca’s intervention was an

insult against my father’s honor.

Umberto drew his knife and Father had his hand on his gun. Matteo, Romero and Cesare had

drawn their own guns. Raffaele was huddled on the floor, bent over his hand, his whimpers the only

sound in the room. Had there ever been a red engagement?

“I didn’t mean disrespect,” Luca said calmly, as if war between New York and Chicago wasn’t

on the verge of breaking out. “But Aria is no longer your responsibility. You lost your right to punish

her when you made her my fiancée. She’s mine to deal with now.”

Father glanced down at the ring on my finger, then inclined his head. Luca let go of his wrist,

and the other men in the room relaxed slightly, but didn’t put their weapons back. “That’s true.” He

stepped back and gestured at me. “Then would you like the honor of beating some sense into her?”

Luca’s hard gaze settled on me and I stopped breathing. “She didn’t disobey me.”

Father’s lips thinned. “You are right. But as I see it Aria will be living under my roof until the

wedding and since honor forbids me to raise my hand against her, I’ll have to find another way to

make her obey me.” He glowered at Gianna and hit her a second time. “For every of your

wrongdoings, Aria, your sister will accept the punishment in your stead.”

I pressed my lips together, tears prickling in my eyes. I didn’t look at Luca or Father, not until I

could find a way to hide my hatred from them.

“Umberto, take Gianna and Aria to their rooms and make sure they stay there.” Umberto

sheathed his knife and gestured at us to follow him. I stepped past my father, dragging Gianna with me

who had her head bowed. She stiffened as we stepped over the blood on the hardwood floor and the

cut-off finger laying abandoned in it. My eyes darted to Raffaele who was clutching his wound to still

the bleeding. His hands, his shirt and pants were covered with blood. Gianna retched as if she was

going to throw up again.

“No,” I said firmly. “Look at me.”

She drew her eyes away from the blood and met my gaze. There were tears in her eyes and her

lower lip had a cut that was dripping blood on her chin and her nightgown. My hand on hers

tightened. I’m here for you. Our locked eyes seemed her only anchor as Umberto led us out of the

room.

“Women,” my father said in a scoffing tone. “They can’t even bear the sight of a bit of blood.” I

could practically feel Luca’s eyes boring into my back before the door closed. Gianna wiped her

bleeding lip as we hurried after Umberto through the corridor and up the stairs. “I hate him,” shemuttered. “I hate them all.”

“Shh.” I didn’t want her to talk like that in front of Umberto. He cared for us, but he was my

father’s soldier through and through.

He stopped me when I wanted to follow Gianna into her room. I didn’t want her to be alone

tonight. And I didn’t want to be alone either. “You heard what your father said.”

I glared at Umberto. “I need to help Gianna with her lip.”

Umberto shook his head. “It’s nothing. You two in a room together always bodes trouble. Do

you think it’s wise to irk your father any more tonight?” Umberto closed Gianna’s door and gently

pushed me in the direction of my room next to hers.

I stepped in, then turned to him. “A room full of grown men watches a man beat a helpless girl,

that’s the famous courage of made men.”

“Your future husband stopped your father.”

“From hitting me, not Gianna.”

Umberto smiled like I was a stupid child. “Luca might rule over New York, but this is Chicago

and your father is Consigliere.”

“You admire Luca,” I said incredulously. “You watched him cut off Raffaele’s finger and you

admire him.”

“Your cousin is lucky The Vice didn’t cut off something else. Luca did what every man would

have done.”

Maybe every man in our world.

Umberto patted my head like I was an adorable kitten. “Go to sleep.”

“Will you be guarding my door all night to make sure I don’t sneak out again?” I said

challengingly.

“Better get used to it. Now that Luca’s put a ring on your finger, he’ll make sure you’re always

guarded.”

I slammed the door shut. Guarded. Even from afar Luca would be controlling my life. I’d

thought my life would go on as it used to until the wedding, but how could it when everyone knew

what the ring on my finger meant? Raffaele’s pinky was a signal, a warning. Luca had made his claim

on me and would enforce it cold-bloodedly.

I didn’t extinguish the lights that night, worried the darkness would bring back images of blood

and cut-off limbs. They came anyway.