1. The Bargain

“My answer is no.”

Alessia Romano placed her untouched wine on her father’s desk.

Luca remained seated, hands clasped across his stomach. Age had silvered his temples without softening him. His dark eyes still carried the authority that terrified grown men.

It no longer terrified her.

“You haven’t heard the full proposal,” he said.

“I heard Dante Moretti’s name. That was enough.”

Her father’s study smelled of cigars, leather and the white roses her mother once arranged near the window. The flowers had disappeared after Sofia’s death, but Alessia sometimes imagined their fragrance beneath everything Luca had used to erase her.

“Our position has become difficult,” he said.

“Three warehouses have been raided, the Russians have taken half the docks, and someone gave the police enough information to freeze twelve million dollars. I’d call that catastrophic.”

Luca’s expression tightened.

Men became careless around women they considered decorative. They discussed shipments while Alessia poured drinks and left documents where she could read them. Even her father mistook silence for ignorance.

“The Morettis are offering protection,” he said.

“They never offer anything without demanding twice as much.”

“They want peace.”

“They want control.”

“The marriage guarantees both.”

Her stomach clenched, though she kept her expression calm.

“There will be no marriage.”

“You don’t have the authority to refuse.”

The quiet statement struck harder than a shout.

Alessia approached the desk. “I’m your daughter, not another shipping container.”

“You are a Romano.”

“Only when it benefits you.”

“Everything I’ve done has been for this family.”

“Was Gabriel part of that family?”

Silence fell.

Her brother’s name had become forbidden inside this house. Photographs remained, but nobody spoke of the man inside them. Gabriel smiled forever from silver frames while Dante Moretti—the man Alessia believed had murdered him—ruled half the city.

Luca stood. “Do not use your brother to manipulate me.”

“I’m reminding you that Dante murdered your son. Now you’re asking your daughter to share his bed.”

“I’m telling you to save what Gabriel died protecting.”

The words landed where Luca intended.

“The contract is negotiated,” he continued. “Moretti will absorb our debts and drive Sokolov from our territory. In exchange, you will marry him.”

“When?”

“Three weeks.”

She stared at him.

Three weeks to marry the monster she had sworn to kill.

“Why me?”

“He requested you specifically.”

A chill moved along her spine.

Four years earlier, she had stood beside Gabriel’s grave and promised Dante that she would kill him. He had lowered the window of his car, looked into her eyes and smiled.

I’ll be waiting.

Perhaps he had been waiting ever since.

“Tell him I’ll consider it,” she said.

Luca frowned. “You just said—”

“I know what I said.”

If she married Dante, she would enter his fortified estate. She would attend his meetings, sleep beside him and learn his secrets.

She would finally get close enough to avenge Gabriel.

“What changed?” Luca asked.

Alessia turned at the door.

“Family must come first.”

Dante arrived for dinner with six armed men and no intention of pretending the evening was social.

Alessia watched from her bedroom balcony as three black vehicles entered the estate. Moretti soldiers emerged first, checking the grounds before Dante stepped from the centre car.

His black suit followed the powerful shape of his body. His hair was shorter than she remembered, his face harder. A scar cut through one eyebrow.

He looked up.

Directly towards her.

Alessia stepped back into the shadows.

“You’re staring.”

Matteo DeLuca stood behind her.

He had been her father’s most trusted soldier for eight years and her secret for almost as long.

“You shouldn’t be in my room,” she said.

“You shouldn’t be marrying Dante Moretti.”

“So you heard.”

“Run away with me.”

Four years earlier, those words would have been everything.

Now they felt painfully late.

“Dante would find us.”

“Then I’ll kill him.”

“Many men have promised that. Most are buried.”

Matteo caught her hand. “I’m not afraid of him.”

“You should be.”

A knock sounded.

Before Alessia could answer, the door opened.

Dante Moretti stood on the threshold.

His gaze dropped to Matteo’s hand around hers.

The warmth vanished from his expression.

“Leave,” Dante said.

“This isn’t your house,” Matteo replied.

“No.” Dante stepped inside. “But she will be my wife.”

“I don’t belong to anyone,” Alessia said.

Dante’s eyes found hers.

“We’ll discuss that privately.”

Matteo reached towards the weapon beneath his jacket.

Dante smiled without warmth. “Three seconds to decide how many fingers you’re willing to lose for touching my fiancée.”

Alessia stepped between them and pressed her palm against Dante’s chest.

Hard muscle and heat met her touch.

“Don’t.”

Dante looked at her hand.

Then he obeyed.

Matteo left reluctantly.

Once the door closed, Alessia reached beneath her pillow for her knife.

Dante caught her wrist and guided the blade against his ribs.

“If you’re going to kill me,” he murmured, “angle it upwards.”

“You assume you have a heart.”

His smile was dark and devastating.

“Do it.”

Before she could move, a gunshot shattered the balcony window.

Dante drove her to the floor as armed men stormed the room.

The last thing Alessia heard before darkness took her was Dante promising to kill everyone who touched her.