Freedom, at least that was what I saw it as. The rules, my grandfather’s scrutiny, and the feeling of captivity were welcome compared to his wrath.

I glanced around before straightening my brown hair over my shoulders. I urged my hands to stop fidgeting and held on to my clutch a bit tighter. My long, deep red dress stabbed my ribcage, and I allowed the uncomfortable feeling to ground me in reality.

Then, I saw her. It was impossible not to pick her apart from this crowd as her eyes shined with hope and dread. I tried not to let myself fill with hatred knowing I was here, standing in the same room because of her. On the contrary, I almost smiled when her eyes snapped at mine. The smile would have been filled with praise. One tiny girl had rattled the ego of many, got away with it, and showcased the scar Dante had left on her neck with pride, as if it was a middle finger for La Cosa Nostra.

And yet, I couldn’t help but pity her. She had no idea what this life meant, and she still chose it—blindly. When the tall blond man who walked protectively by her side whispered, her attention shifted away from me as her eyes glimmered for him, and I understood.

Love.

The death sentence in our world.

An illusion of happiness and a set of shackles meant to prevent you from flying free.

I was so intrigued by the girl who was almost killed at the hands of my siblings that I missed the speech given from afar. Not giving it any importance, or the people that swayed in place, I searched for Aldo as he’d taken longer than anticipated. Instead, I found Dante in the far corner. Only the left side of his face remained out of the shadows. The side that intimidated many by the size of the scar that decorated his left brow and the corner of his eye.

We both kept quiet and away from view as claps and chatter erupted in loud echoes. Dante murmured something under his breath that was not clear for me to understand. As the claps died, classical music replaced the chatter from the live duo nearby. The crowd thinned little by little.

The aura changed within seconds. Dark violence silently swarmed inside, and as I felt its fierce pull, my eyes swung to its call.

Three men walked in our direction with purpose. My feet took a small step back, deeper into the shadows as I stared blankly at the trio. My mind dismissed the two that walked a few feet behind, only focusing on him.

“Massimo.” His name slipped through my parted lips, and my body stilled.

Massimo’s powerful footfalls never faltered, but his dark gaze narrowed as his head inclined slightly and he continued down the hall.

You are not hearing voices.

Massimo's fingers reached the tie of his three-piece black suit, leaving his tattooed neckline exposed as he adjusted himself. His sight turned toward the remaining people inside his home before he gripped the doorknob to his right and disappeared from view. While he took the violent aura along with him, the pull still tugged me tightly to follow. A dangerous pull that was wise to ignore.

A blond-haired man followed quickly behind. His resemblance to the one who’d escorted Davina earlier only brought more questions. As the last guy traced their steps, his wicked eyes caught mine. Dark hair and an even darker gaze trained on me. He stopped, craned his head, and pursed his lips in disgust as Dante moved forward at my side. His eyes assessed me carefully.

They weren't supposed to know about me…yet.

With a quick grip on my brother’s arm in so-called fear, I’d deceived the man into believing I was no one to care about. Just an ordinary woman lost in this made world who sought the thrill of being with a mafioso.

Of course, he fell for it.

He took one last look at Dante before closing the door behind him.

I let Dante go. “Who was that?”

“Your future brother-in-law, Elio. Massimo’s right hand man and Miami’s underboss,” he replied with distaste.

Brother-in-law? Aside from their olive skin and Italian features, Elio and Massimo bear no resemblance to one another.

“Enough talk, it’s time.” Aldo’s voice traveled faster than my body could find him.

I wasn’t surprised to see his hands missing our drinks. Even our small conversations contained lies. Little white lies we’ve told each other for years. The lies we hide behind.

Elio adjusted his tailored suit before he leaned over to Dante.

With a nod, I watched as Dante walked closer toward the door but waited as Aldo stood before me.

“Stay here, and away from view. Only step inside if Dante is the one holding the door open. You hear a gunshot —”

“I know. Find our men and get in the car,” I finished.

“Don’t forget what you are here for.”

“I won’t.”

Aldo gave me a small nod and walked past me, and I was left alone.

We were the enemy.

Invited, yet unwelcome in this city.

A small prayer should have fallen from my lips. A prayer for Aldo’s plan to come through tonight. A prayer for the moment Massimo realized he’d been one step behind. A prayer for what was to come.

But the prayer never reached my lips.

Now, all I could do was watch the pieces fall and the chaos unravel.

Dante held the door open, and the room fell silent as I stepped inside the room.

“A marriage,” Aldo proposed.

With each step I took closer to Aldo, the tension grew thicker.

I couldn’t look around to catch anyone’s reactions or pay attention to the built-in bookcases on the walls. Not when his eyes were on me.

With my head held high, I kept my pace steady while my lungs filled with the smell of oak and bourbon.

Massimo’s eyes were cold, but as his dark gaze held mine captive, they swirled with menace. As if a game had begun. It was a game only he knew the rules to. A game I was bound to lose. And the longer I kept my eyes on him, the more I believed my ways of deceit would be put to the test.

I wanted to leave this room, take this dress off, and spar until my body gave in. I wanted to say, “The hell to Massimo,” and board the next plane back to Italy. To the New York Syndicate, that was a treacherous dream. With the end of my time in Italy, all I knew was the Mafia life.

And in this life, I knew how to fight.

Massimo scoffed. My thoughts weren’t safe around him.

“Alessandra Zanetti.” My name rolled effortlessly from his tongue with his faint Italian accent. “I thought you were a myth. Guess they just kept you well hidden.”

The game had started.

“They did for years in the old country. That is until you are needed to fulfill your duty,” I spat.

Aldo wanted me to sell this union, and this was my way. With my voice loud and clear. To a man like Massimo, he would see my spirit as a challenge. He will say yes, if only to banish it.

I was baiting him, and as he chuckled darkly, I knew I had.

“Does your boss know about this?” he asked Aldo without releasing his gaze from mine.

Massimo was toying with him as he pushed lines no other man dared to cross. Even with one question, he had reminded Aldo he wasn’t the Boss of New York. Our father was, making him unable to make such agreements without permission.

Without looking at my eldest brother, I knew he envisioned every way he could gut the man before him. After all, that was what our family did best. Cut, carve, and butcher. But unlike Massimo, Aldo was born into this world and tailored to the role. It was only a matter of time before New York would answer to him.

“My orders are to fix the problem and solidify the family. I am only following orders. I don’t make them yet.”

I’ve been around made-men all my life. I was a principessa. But this…this was different. My future was hanging at the hands of a ruthless bastard. A killer with a brutal reputation.

Even then, I was here to get the answer I needed.

As I stood across his desk, my eyes traveled over Massimo’s jaw. The shadow of his beard didn’t let a reaction slip by, but I kept looking for the tells. My gaze slid down his neck. Portions of his tanned skin were covered in tattoos, piquing my interest in their meaning, if they had any at all. By the amount of ink on his neck, I knew there was more underneath his crisp suit. My eyes were distracted by them, so I looked for his hands instead. I hunted for a twitch, a habit. Instead, his large, inked hands rested on his desk without a single movement.

I could feel his eyes on me while he raised his left hand to his jaw. Massimo ran his hand along his raspy beard, getting what he wanted when my eyes halted on his lips.

Damn him. I’d done it unconsciously.

Indeed, this was a dangerous game.

I didn’t hide when our eyes met again. Once they locked, he gave me the answer I was looking for.

An ominous smile spread across his face as he said it.

“Deal.”

ALESSANDRA

New York

“Deal.”

My eyes tore open, snapping me away from the vivid dream of Massimo’s piercing dark eyes on me as his one word sealed a vow.

Laying still underneath the covers of my bed, I felt the racing pace of my heartbeat. The rise and fall of my chest as I looked into the dark room. I clenched my fists to release the prickling sensation in my fingertips and tried shaking away the vision of him.

It was useless.

I couldn’t even call it a nightmare. It was a memory filled with mistrust and uncertainty that kept me on edge.

Frustrated, I left my bed and stepped toward the large windows and slid the black-out curtains open. As I looked out to the manicured lawn I’d roamed aimlessly as a child, I was surprised to see Aldo’s car parked on the drive.

I’d called him for three days, asking him to please get me out of my father's home. To forget about masochist traditions and mafia etiquette and just drop me off at a hotel. There were no answers to each call or text message.

But he was here now, and I couldn’t stay cooped up in this room anymore.

This home reminded me of the scared child I’d once been, and the longer I stayed here, the more my mind reacted to old memories and fears.

Quickly, I rushed away from the window and past the four-post bed my father replaced the day after my mother’s death.

He had removed any details she had left behind.

The bathroom lights were merciless as they pronounced my lack of sleep. I knew it would take some time for me to conceal the dark circles under my eyes. I sped through my morning routine in hopes of catching Aldo, and once my face showed no weaknesses, I left the bathroom in search of a fitted dress.

Ignoring the sprawled suitcase at the foot of the bed, I reached the closet door where my garment bag hung heavily. I hadn’t bothered placing my belongings inside a home I had no desire to ever step foot in again. It will all remain unpacked, longing for each passing day to be the last in this never-ending jar of memories.

After picking a suitable white and black dress, I stared at my reflection and strapped my push dagger under the skirt of the dress.

For ten years, it’d brought me comfort. It'd been me and her. With threats looming, I wasn’t about to stop wearing it. Especially here in this home.

“You can never let your guard down, Alessandra.” My grandfather’s scolding voice passed through my mind.

The thought of spending more time on my hair vanished as something inside me shouted to search for Aldo. After I slipped on a pair of designer heels, I did just that.

As soon as I stepped into the corridor, I was greeted with silence.

No guards at my door.

Not one soldier was in the hall.

The silence stretched the further I walked toward the staircase, and with each step I took, the heavier my heart felt.

Not one staff member roamed the main floor.

Where was everyone?

The last time I remembered the house being this empty was the day my mother passed.

My father’s shout was muffled by our thick walls, and my body turned toward the sound.

Aldo.

I had no business following my father’s roars, and yet, I found myself taking a step closer and closer to the mahogany door of his study. His voice was loud and yet indecipherable, but his wrath was clear. The need to retreat back to my room grew, and when I heard the tone from Aldo, I knew it would be best.

I'd done everything to stay off my father’s radar since arriving. Getting caught by his study wasn’t the attention I wanted. Aldo would have to wait.

Frustrated, I took a deep breath and stepped back.

Then, my body froze. My heart pounded, and my eyes shot back to the door as the distinctive sound of metal locked and caught. It was the sound of the slide pulling back as the hammer pushed a bullet into the barrel, ready to be fired. The only thing left was to pull the trigger.

I’ve learned not to react before thinking. To not be led by emotions. To control impulsive behaviors as it was necessary to stay alive in this world.

And yet, I did the opposite.

I flung the door open, and now, I stared at the end of the barrel as the door echoed shut.

I stood still, watching my father’s finger wrap around the trigger as his face morphed into pure ire. A quick look around and the only other gaze I found was Aldo’s troubled and furious eyes.

My father lowered the weapon as he stared at me, repulsed. He took a step forward. I took one back. He drew another, and I stood my ground until his hand gripped my cheeks forcefully pushing my body against the door.

Pain shot through the back of my head, and the hollows of my cheeks burned as his hold tightened. Fear swarmed inside, and I fell back in time. A time of tears and a sense of helplessness.

Petrified, I stared at the human who was a part of me. The man I should look up to and the one who should protect me. But Franco Zanetti was nothing more than a demon I had run away from in my past.

I wasn’t the child who couldn’t meet his eyes. I was the woman who could see him clearly for who he was.

Hurt him.

Hurt him as much as he has hurt you.

My hand slid down my thigh as his thumb and index finger jabbed deeper, nudging my mouth apart. Then, I felt the outline of my dagger, and I was myself again.

It had taken me a second to push back the young and fearful child that screamed for help away. Now that I had, my green eyes looked up at his dark brown.

He saw the change. He felt it.

My strength.

It had been futile and reckless. A reaction that I had chosen based on feelings. I had gained nothing but a brief moment of satisfaction before it all went black.

ALESSANDRA

New York

A thrashingache in my head weakened my senses in a thick cloud. I pushed through it and concealed its hammering pain to prevent slipping back into the peaceful sleep I’d been forced into.

My nose twitched as the stench of alcohol filled my lungs. I opened my eyes and swung my hand over my nose to ease the strong scent. I came in contact with an arm and a cotton ball flew away from the long and calloused fingers. I looked up at the person whose hand I’d stroked.

Aldo’s.

He stood before me, and I lifted my head off the pillow. I’d made it to a sitting position before his hand held my shoulder firmly, keeping me off my feet and in my bed.

I hated him for it, and my heart repelled the touch. I didn’t like hands on me, but my body welcomed the childish gesture as my hasty move caused a hazy rush of unsteadiness.

I pulled away from his touch.

“Look at me,” Aldo ordered.

I did.

“Stay down, Alessandra. You got enough unwanted attention for the day.” His blank expression inched closer, and after a few seconds, he spoke. “I’ll have someone check on you every two hours.” Aldo tried to reach for my shoulder again, but I evaded the contact. He closed his palm instead and turned toward the door.

No.

“Wait, Aldo!”

He didn’t stop as he said, “I’ll be back after you rest.”

“No.” I stood strong and watched his hand pull away from the doorknob. “Now.”

With a clenched jaw, he turned and retreated back into my room until he sat comfortably in the boudoir.

“Fine.”

“I can’t stay here,” I blurted and took a deep breath.

Aldo watched me in silence. The silence grew as he carefully chose his words.

“You’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” I sighed.

“Massimo will be here first thing in the morning.”

“What?” Shock mingled in my eyes.

With a shrug, Aldo said, “My guess, Massimo found out about Father’s deal.”

“You are keeping something from me.”

“You are a woman.”