Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
And there was something else in her…
Defiance.
A spark of rebellion.
Serafina was supposed to be malleable. Compliant. Grateful, even, for the protection my name would provide. Instead, she’d returned with secrets in her eyes and walls I hadn’t expected to encounter, to break.
The whiskey burned pleasantly as I took another sip.
This Serafina had secrets.
This Serafina was a liar.
The thought should have angered me. Instead, I found myself more… intrigued than ever.
I’d always assumed I knew everything about her; that she was the simple, obedient daughter of Santino Morelli, raised to be a perfect mafia wife.
Now I realized there was something more to her.
It was going to be so much fucking fun… peeling all those layers until she was naked, in her truth. Serafina thought she could deceive me, but I had been in this twisted game way before her.
Little did she know…
I knew more than she knew.
I knew more than Adrian knew.
I threw my head back, my chest rattling with a laugh. Mirthless, sardonic, bitter. It echoed against the walls of my private study and I laughed harder.
Oh, little did he know…
CHAPTER EIGHT
Serafina
Three weeks until the wedding
“Serafina!” Giulia approached me, smiling from ear to ear, almost too cheerful, which instantly put me on guard. Easily trusting anyone in our world could be fatal.
So I grew up being suspicious of everyone.
Especially those who were too kind. They always seemed to have a hidden, dangerous motive.
“How lovely to have you with us today,” she said, coming to stand in front of me. Giulia wore a cream-colored knee-length dress that fit her curves modestly. She was polished, perfectly put together and not a single hair out of place.
Just like me, her wardrobe was carefully curated to reflect power, family reputation and… control.
We represented the family before we represented ourselves.
Damon, who was standing beside me, cleared his throat. I forced a practiced smile. “I’ve been looking forward to it,” I responded politely. The fakery in my voice made me cringe internally. “Damon has promised to accompany me here today.”
“Oh yes, I knew you wouldn’t be coming alone.” More like I wasn’t allowed. I wasn’t married yet; I still needed a chaperone.
Giulia smiled at Damon, the corner of her eyes crinkling, and I swore there was mischief in them. “How about you make yourself comfortable in the dining room? I’ll have one of the chefs serve you something fresh. There’s no reason for you to be following us girls around while we chitchat. You’d be bored.”
Did she just… dismiss my brother?
Damon made a sound in the back of his throat, something akin to a low, irritated growl. “I had no intention of following you girls around like some lap dog. I’m not a goddamn babysitter.”
Confusion gnawed at me and I looked between my brother and Giulia. Damon stood with his arms crossed over his chest, his brows furrowed in annoyance and his lips tight. He looked evidently vexed.
But there was something else puzzling me.
They spoke as if they were familiar with each other.
“Thank you for clarifying,” she said, her lips twitching. “That you’re not a lap dog.”
My eyes widened at her reckless audacity and I had to carefully school my expression; otherwise, my jaw would have been on the floor. Goddamn, Giulia.
Damon hissed under his breath. “You—”
But Giulia was already turning toward me, dismissing Damon once again.
“Serafina, I’ve been so excited to have you here!” She clasped her hands together, her enthusiasm almost genuine before she wrapped her arm around mine, pulling me away from my brother.
Holy shit, the audacity just kept increasing. Who was this woman? I expected Giulia Salvatore to be demure, shy… obedient… definitely not full of sass.
She gestured for me to follow her through the grand foyer of the Salvatore estate. “I know you’ve had a whirlwind few weeks since the engagement party, and I thought you might appreciate a proper welcome to what will soon be your home.”
I looked over my shoulders to see my brother glaring at our parting backs before he stalked outside, past the entrance door. Wow, that was unexpected. I had never seen my brother so irritated, and somewhat speechless by Guilia’s audacity… perhaps boldness I should say.
Giulia and I walked side by side across the marble floor that seemed to stretch endlessly in every direction. The Salvatore mansion made the Morelli estate look modest by comparison—all soaring ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and artwork that belonged in museums rather than private residences.
I knew the Salvatores were powerful and the most influential of the five New York Famiglie, even more superior than the Chicago Outfit that is ruled by my father. But to witness their grandeur first hand was a little rattling… intimidating.
“Matteo was supposed to be here to welcome you himself. He truly was looking forward to it,” Giulia continued, her heels clicking rhythmically against the polished floor. “But something urgent came up with one of our business ventures downtown. He sends his apologies and promises to be back for dinner.”