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)
Shocking realization dawned on me, and a silent gasp escaped past my lips as Matteo Salvatore… the real Matteo, leaned toward me to grab my hand. His cold lips feathered against the back of it, a simple kiss. A mark of introduction and fate.
My head snapped in the direction where I had left the man—the stranger— from earlier. He had moved forward now, leaning against the front white, stoned pillar of the gazebo instead of being hidden in the shadows. He was fully visible, his ankles were crossed and, oh my…
He was still watching me.
Our eyes met.
His lips twitched and he grinned wolfishly, a half-smirk that held deceitful promises and a lot of dark secrets.
My heart stuttered.
How did I mess up so badly?
CHAPTER TWO
“Sacrifices need to be made,” my father admonished me.
“You said I could still finish my degree online and—”
“There’s no time for that,” Damon interrupted in his growly voice. “Your wedding is in six weeks.”
And after that, my only duty was to be the wife of Matteo. My brother didn’t say the words, but I knew what he was thinking.
We buried my mother yesterday morning and I only had six weeks to “mourn” her.
And then I would be wedded off to Salvatore’s heir in the grandest wedding the Chicago Outfit and the New York Famiglie had ever seen.
My fists clenched and I refused to look at my brother. “But father—”
“Why is that degree so important to you anyway? What will it get you?”
My mouth snapped shut. My father’s words irritated me, but ironically, he was right.
I wanted to be the first woman in my family to earn a degree. To be educated. To be valued. To do something meaningful. But yes, what would a degree get me when my fate had long been decided?
I was betrothed at five years old.
My future had already been carefully planned and calculated.
My worth was only that—my marriage to Matteo Salvatore.
“Even if I were to allow you to do this now, I doubt you’d be able to finish your degree once you’re married. Matteo doesn’t care about an educated wife.” My father stood up and walked around his large, carved oak desk. He had his favorite poison, a cigar, between his lips. “Serafina, it’s important for you to understand your duty.”
Despair swelled in my throat, digging its claws around my flesh from the inside.
“You have been gone for four years, but you know the rules. They are ingrained in your soul.”
Oh how I wish I stayed gone.
My life would have been so much better if I had remained a shadow, living quietly in Southern California.
While I was away, for only a short time in my life I had some kind of freedom. Limited, but it meant something to me.
Freedom—
To be who I was.
To pursue what I wanted.
To make friends… though it wasn’t many.
So while any other sane person would have been frightened to find out that someone was out to kill them, for me it was a blessing in disguise. Sure, I was horrified at first, but then I realized it was my only ticket out of Chicago.
I was thirteen when a hit was put on me for the first time. I got out of the accident unscathed because whoever was hired turned out to be a pitiful novice. Lucky for me, unfortunate for him. Because my brother put a bullet right between his eyes.
But when I was fifteen, they sent a trained assassin.
Angelo, my bodyguard, had his head blown off in front of me, his blood spattered over my face and then I took a bullet in my shoulder.
Somehow, I survived.
The hitman escaped, and it left Santino Morelli panic-stricken.
So I was sent away. For my protection.
I couldn’t possibly die. My life was precious to my father. Not because of fatherly love. No, because he needed me.
My life for his.
Sixteen years ago, my grandfather started a war he couldn’t win. He had a personal rivalry with Antonio Salvatore, the previous Boss of the Salvatore family. One of the most powerful and influential New York Famiglia.
The Chicago Outfit and the New York Mafia families (the Five Families of the American Cosa Nostra) have a long history of cooperation, tension, and mutual dependence.
There was an unspoken oath between them.
They were separate powers, often cooperating, sometimes competing, but always respecting territorial lines.
It was a relationship based on mutual respect, until my grandfather put his personal, impulsive whims before the protection and lives of his own people.
It was selfish and destructive.
A decision we were still paying for.
He may have succeeded in killing Antonio, but he wasn’t powerful enough to win. We called it the War of Broken Oaths.
Bloody.
Murderous.
Vicious.
Enzo, Antonio’s son, killed my grandfather… and then he came for the rest of my family. My father feared for his life, but he was also a smart, political man.
This bloody feud would have never ended if my father hadn’t made a deal with Enzo Salvatore that night.