Novels by Odessa Blue

CHAPTER ONE HUNDREDEPILOGUE (Eight Months Later)ARIA“Maximo,” Dr. Marini said, adjusting her glasses as she peered at him from across the table. “We’ve talked about this. You can’t solve everything with threats.”Maximo, sitting beside me in a perfectly tailored suit, crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t threaten,” he said smoothly. “I give options. It’s not my fault people don’t like the consequences of the second one.”I stifled a laugh, earning a sharp look from Dr. Marini. She was one hell of a woman. Soft when she needed to be, but also scary nonetheless. It was why she was the only woman in the Cosa Nostra who could call my husband by his first name. I still wasn’t sure how I should feel about that.“Aria,” she turned her attention to me, “how do you feel when Maximo behaves this way?”“Honestly?” I said, tilting my head. “It depends. Sometimes, it can be infuriating..."“I didn’t even do anything,” Maximo grumbled beside me. “Do you know what other dons do

CHAPTER NINETY-NINEARIAThe sting in my hand was nothing compared to the ache in my chest. Maximo stood frozen for a moment, his cheek reddening from where my palm had connected. And then, to my utter disbelief, he laughed—a low, bitter sound that rumbled deep in his chest.“Wow. And here I was thinking you would be happy I’m offering you an easy way out,” he murmured.An angry snarl slipped past my lips as my hand shot up again, ready to slap him a second time. But before I could bring my hand down on his cheek again, he caught my wrist in midair. His grip was firm but not rough, and despite everything, a small, pathetic part of me was happy that he was touching me again.Piercing, grey eyes bored into mine with a mix of frustration and something else I couldn’t quite place.“Aria,” he said sharply, his voice edged with irritation, “I thought you’d be pleased.”“Pleased?” I yelled, my voice rising as tears burned in my eyes. I wrenched my hand free from his grasp, glaring at him th

CHAPTER NINETY-EIGHTARIAIt had been five days. Five days since Maximo killed Lorenzo. Five days since Maximo last spoke to me or looked at me.The house felt colder than usual, and the silence pressed down on me like a suffocating blanket. I’d spent the entire day trying to distract myself from the ache in my chest, but nothing worked.I had tried cleaning the kitchen even though everything was already spotless, scrubbing every surface until my hands were raw. Maria panicked when she saw me, and when she tried to shoo me away from the kitchen, I reminded her that I was her boss’s wife. I did it a little too harshly, I’ll admit, but I’ve been on an uncomfortable edge ever since.I prepared lunch with the rest of the kitchen staff. At first, there was an uncomfortable silence due to my presence in the room. But after I urged them to ignore my presence, a soft conversation amongst the maids followed, and I drowned myself in the city gossip I never knew could distract me.By mid-afterno

CHAPTER NINETY-SEVENMAXIMOA sharp scream pierced the room as Aria crouched to the floor. My heartbeat thudded in my ears as Lorenzo’s head snapped back, crimson blood staining the wall behind him as his body crumpled to the floor.Silence followed, but it was so loud that it felt like a roar.I stared at the lifeless heap on the ground, at the way his blood—my blood—pooled beneath him. My hand stayed clenched around my gun, trembling as I tried to make sense of what was in front of me. The pure rage that had driven me seconds ago evaporated. It was now replaced by a hollowness that spread through my chest like poison.I did it. I killed my brother.The realization ripped through my chest, leaving behind a void so vast that it threatened to swallow me whole. Lorenzo’s face was frozen in a blank state. I stared at his once-sharp features—features that were almost identical to mine—and the slack and lifeless face stared back at me. His eyes—eyes that used to glint with mischief, love,

CHAPTER NINETY-SIXMAXIMOI stood there, gun in hand, staring at my brother as his smirk spread and his mocking laughter echoed around the room. It wasn’t the laugh of someone remorseful or regretful. It was the sound of someone who had nothing left to lose.“You’ll have to be more specific,” I said through clenched teeth. “What exactly did you mean when you said you’ve been behind everything?”Lorenzo tilted his head, his smirk widening. “Do you really want me to go into detail? Are you sure your heart would be able to handle it?” He asked with a mocking pout.My anger burned hotter in my chest, and I tightened my grip on my gun. “Start talking.”“Fine,” he huffed, but then his eyes glinted with malice as he began to speak. “Do you remember when we were boys? How I did everything right? I trained harder, studied more, followed all the rules of the Cosa Nostra, and yet..." He waved a hand as his voice took on a bitter edge. “Yet you—the reckless, weak son—were chosen to lead.”“Yo

CHAPTER NINETY-FIVEMAXIMOI couldn’t wrap my mind around what Aria had just said. Her words echoed in my mind, loud and jarring like a bullet through the air. It didn’t make sense. It couldn’t be true.“I don’t believe you,” I finally said, and I saw the way her eyes fell.“I’m telling the truth, Maximo. What will I gain by lying about this?”I gritted my teeth and stepped away from her, needing to clear my head. The woman I loved just told me that my own blood brother, whom I’ve known my whole life, is planning to have us killed. What the fuck was I supposed to make of that?She took a step towards me, and I raised my head to look at her again. My eyes narrowed at her as I tried to understand if she was lying, if she had misheard something, if this was some kind of sick joke. “Have I ever done anything to break your trust?” She asked, and I could hear the hurt in her voice. The fear in her eyes and the slight wavering in her voice were too raw to be fake.“Are you sure?” My voice

GABRIELLAMy heart pounds so hard it almost drowns out the sound of the city outside the taxi. I rattle off the address to the driver, trying to keep my voice steady, but my fingers tremble slightly where they rest on my lap. I’ve memorized the place by heart, Lisa’s instructions from earlier still echoing in my head.When Leon revealed I had physiotherapy at the clinic, I knew it would be the perfect opportunity to slip away. I didn’t know how I would do it, but the desire and determination burned in my veins throughout the drive there. I quickly texted Lisa and told her my situation. She revealed they were having a hangout at Nicole’s mom’s restaurant. Apparently, it was the same hangout Jack invited me to. More reasons to go.Lisa gave me various escape options, including pretending to go to the bathroom and taking a second exit and causing a scene at the clinic so I could slip away. Throughout my session with the doctor, I kept thinking about how I would execute that plan. But I d

LEONEverything about her gets under my skin and lingers there, from the hair on her head to the tips of her painted toes. She’s the physical, present embodiment of everything I’ve spent my whole life hating, wrapped in a pretty package. I can’t decide what I hate more: her, for existing, or myself, for letting her little acts of mischief get to me.The past few days have been a distraction I can’t afford. Every second I waste watching her, tolerating her excesses, and holding myself back from acting on my anger is a second lost from the mission. But I can’t lose sight of the game plan. Tomaso still doesn’t trust me, and I know better than to rush it. I haven’t worked that long for him to gain his trust. And trust takes time. Trust makes people let their guard down. It makes them sloppy. And when Tomaso becomes sloppy, I’ll strike.My goal is to serve justice, and that doesn’t come cheap. It demands patience. I replay the reminder in my head every time Gabriella opens her mouth.I c

GABRIELLAThe glass in my hand suddenly feels too small and fragile from how tight I’m holding it. I become painfully aware of what I’m wearing, just a pair of thin silk shorts and a matching camisole that does absolutely nothing to cover me. My skin prickles under the weight of realization. It’s not like I’ve never worn something like this before, but always in my room, never with him around to see me in it. Never around someone who radiates the kind of still, dangerous energy he does.I can practically feel the heat climb up my neck as he crosses the kitchen in calm and deliberate movements. He doesn’t even look at me. Isn’t it normal to say ‘good morning’ when you see someone for the first time this early in a day? I internally scoff. Of course, a man like Leon has no manners. That shouldn’t shock me.He brushes past, close enough that I catch the faint scent of his soap—clean, sharp, and masculine—and it hits me in full force. I’m tempted to take a deep inhale, to fill my lungs wi

GABRIELLAMy heart does a flip in my chest. Jack freezes. His lips hover close to mine, but his eyes flick past my shoulder to stare at Leon, and I see the way his confident playboy persona shrinks under Leon’s gaze. He doesn’t wait for Leon to repeat himself. One look at Leon’s intimidating, quite terrifying expression is enough.My heart pounds so hard I feel it in my throat. Around us, I see a couple of students stop to see what is happening. Some are pretending not to stare; others are staring blankly. The air tenses, filled with whispers of confusion and a hint of excitement at what is going to happen.Jack takes a step back. His face is red with anger, his jaw flexing repeatedly. For a second, I think he’s about to say something to Leon. I badly want him to. I want someone else to look Leon in the face and tell him off. But Jack doesn’t do that. He seems to weigh his options and maybe realizes that it’s not worth it—I’m not worth it—before his eyes turn to meet mine instead. “I

GABRIELLAThe man Leon was just talking to strolls off with his hands in his pockets. I didn’t catch a proper look of his face, but his height and gait are very similar to Leon’s. They’re even dressed alike, both in all-black attire.Who is he?For some reason, it never crossed my mind that Leon has a life outside of being my bodyguard. Well, it’s not my fault I assumed that. The man never smiles. He’s cold and practically unfeeling. He acts like a robot. But seeing this man makes me wonder exactly who Leon is. Outside of being my annoying bodyguard, who is he? I don’t know anything about him other than his first name. Does he have friends? I doubt it. The guy that just left seemed more like an acquaintance than a friend. Does he have a family? I would assume he does. Everyone comes from somewhere, right? Does he have a girlfriend?The question leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Leon doesn’t look like the type of man to tolerate the presence of any woman. Men like him probably don’t ev

LEONThe bench is cool beneath me, hidden away in a trimmed patch of garden near the school parking lot. The late afternoon sun filters through the leaves over my head, scattering shadows across the cobblestones. Several students wander past, some in groups, some walking alone. They’re all different, individual people, yet so alike in more ways than one. Dripped in expensive clothing, polished shoes, and the latest designer bags swinging at their sides, it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that this is an environment only the wealthy can thrive in. They move with a certain kind of carelessness and reckless abandon that comes from not having a worry in the world. Their only concern is probably what to wear to the next party, and for the academically serious ones, they have the luxury of focusing on that without any outside distractions. That’s a privilege people like me are never afforded to have. I lean back with one arm stretched across the bench and drag my eyes away from the students