Chapter 1

The glass hit the wall and splashed its splinters all over the floor next to me.

It was so terrifying that I couldn't move. My boots stayed glued to the expensive floor while the broken pieces littered across the whole room.

"Leo." My father's voice was quiet, but too quiet for comfort. "Look at me."

His calmness was always the worst. When he screamed, he was only angry. But when he whispered, it was more dangerous.

I lifted my head slowly. My neck was stiff. I responded meekly, "I'm looking, Dad."

"Do you know what they call me in this city?" He moved forward toward me, wearing a grey suit that cost more than a house. His hair was perfect; none was scattered from his last action. "They call me 'The Iron'. Do you know why?"

"Because you're hard," I said feebly. My voice came out thin, like paper.

"No." He came closer until he was inches from my face. I could smell the scotch on him and see the tiny red veins in his eyes. "It's because I don't bend and I don't break. But you..."

He reached out his hand and used his thumb to repeatedly smooth the lapel of my jacket, so slowly that it felt like a deliberate threat.

"You disgraced me today," he said. You saw the blue lights, and you ran, leaving the truck and the men. "You have dragged the family name in the mud."

"There were too many of them!" I snapped. "They had rifles, Dad! If I stayed, I'd be in a body bag right now!"

"Then what are you waiting for!"

The roar came fast. His hand cracked across my face.

Slap.

My head snapped sideways. The heat from the slap spread through my cheek.

"Do you think your life matters more than the name Moretti?" He gripped my chin, fingers digging deep through my skin. "You are a Moretti. We don't run. We fight until there is nothing left to fight."

"I'm sorry," I choked out.

"Sorry won't put a million dollars in my pocket. Sorry won't stop the other families from laughing at me." He released me and turned toward the window, staring out at the dark gardens. "I can't have a coward for a son. I won't."

"Are you kicking me out?" I wiped the blood from my lip.

"No." He stayed facing the glass. "I'm fixing you. There is a place for boys who aren't ready to be men. It's called The Forge."

"The Forge?" My stomach dropped. "I've heard stories about that place, Dad. That place is a cage. They break people who come there."

"Exactly." He turned back. His face was a mask; there was no love, no pity, just ice. "They break the weak parts so the strong parts can grow. You are leaving tonight."

"Tonight? But I have..."

"You have nothing!" he yelled. "You own nothing! Every shirt you wear and every meal you eat belongs to me. But from tonight, you belong to the Forge."

He looked past me into the shadows.

"Viktor!"

Viktor stepped forward in black tactical gear that was built like a giant. His eyes locked on mine, dark and intense, memorising me for reasons that had nothing to do with duty.

"Yes, Don?"

"Take him upstairs, pack his bag, basics only. If he attempts to escape, take the necessary actions."

"I understand, boss."

Viktor moved closer. The air became heavy. My pulse betrayed me.

"Let's go, Leo," Viktor commanded.

"Don't talk to me like that," I snapped. "I'm still a Moretti."

He leaned down until I had to tilt my head back to meet his jaw. A faint smile touched his mouth. "Not anymore. Right now you're just a package I have to deliver. Move."

We climbed the grand staircase. The house was too quiet, the silence heavy like a funeral already in progress.

At my bedroom door I reached for the handle. Viktor's huge hand covered mine on the gold knob, warm and rough. He didn't pull away. He simply rested his fingers over mine like they belonged there.

I jerked back. But truly, I loved what I felt. That fact tasted bitter.

"I'll open it," he said softly.

He turned the knob but didn't open the door. Instead, he pressed me against the frame. The hard plates of his vest dug into my back. His breath brushed my neck. My heart slammed against my ribs, and the worst part was that fear wasn't the only thing making it race.

"I've been watching you for a long time, Leo," he whispered. "I know everything about you."

"That's your job," I managed. My voice came out weaker than I wanted.

"I'm paid to watch over you," he murmured, his chest heavy against my shoulders. "But I watch for free. When you sleep. When you're in the pool. You look at men lustfully, believing that no one is watching."

Cold and heat rushed through me. Both at once.

"What are you talking about?" I said.

"You think you have secrets?" A dry laugh escaped him. He opened the door, pushed me inside, and locked it behind us with a click. "I see everything. Your desire. Your lust. I know what you are. And I know what they're going to do to you at the Forge."

I spun around. "What are they going to do?"

Viktor moved to the closet and yanked out a duffel bag. He stuffed clothes in without care, fast and brutal.

"They're going to try to take the sweetness out of you, Leo. Make you bitter like your father." He stopped and looked at me, eyes burning. "But they won't. Because I'm going with you. I told your father I'd be your personal handler. I'll be the one in the room with you every night to comfort you."

My heart skipped. Something darker pulled me towards him, and I knew it was dangerous. I pushed it down.

"Why would you do that?" I asked. "You think I'm weak."

Viktor crossed the room in three strides. He grabbed the front of my shirt and yanked me close until our belts clicked. I could feel the heat pouring off his chest.

"I don't think you're weak," he hissed. His gaze dropped to my mouth for half a heartbeat. "I want you. I've watched you since you turned eighteen. And when we get to that place, with those walls, there won't be a Don to tell me not to."

He released me. I stepped back, trying to catch my breath. My hands shook for the wrong reasons, and none of them had anything to do with my father's slap.

He finished packing, zipped the bag, and headed for the door. Then he paused.

"One more thing, Leo."

"What?" I whispered.

"Your father thinks he's sending you there to become a man. But do you want to know the real reason he chose the Forge?"

I stared at him, silent and curious.

"He found your search history on your phone," Viktor said. A cruel smile curved his lips. "It's not about making you stronger. It's more than that. Do you really think you can survive that?"