Chapter 2

Her heart drummed in her ears. He knew too well how much fear he was inflicting on her; the glint in his eyes said it all.

She shivered like a drenched kitten, the stench of that man’s blood in the air and the fact that she might be next made her heart ripple.

She couldn’t afford to be stalled, not when her father might’ve found out she had fled the clan.

“What do you want from me?” her voice came out in a low whisper.

His grip on her chin loosened, his thumb caressed her plump lips, making her shudder.

“My dear friend who you saw here minutes ago is on his way on a faraway trip. He doesn’t want to go alone,” he sighed, pretend sadness etched on his face—then it all disappeared, replaced by a terrifying grin.

“You don’t mind being his chaperone, do you?”

A chaperone to the afterlife? Clearly, this man was insane. But those eyes—the unhinged madness in them—something told her this wasn’t just a joke.

“I… I…” Her life began flashing in front of her eyes. Then came the loud siren noise. The cops were here.

“Fuck it!” he cursed. He gripped her chin again. The sirens faded; the sound of her erratic heartbeat was all she could hear.

And then he flashed her one more glare before disappearing into the darkness. Goosebumps formed on her skin at the near-death encounter.

“Hey, you!” The manly voice and the bright torch snapped her out of her thoughts.

This was a crime city. She could explain for eternity, but they would never believe she was just an innocent wanderer.

She flung her bag over her shoulder and took to her heels, running as fast as possible as the cops chased her. And then—she ran into a hard, sturdy chest.

She looked up, and her heart dropped when she saw her father standing in front of her, a grim look on his face. She stumbled backward, falling on her butt instantly. Her blood ran cold. Now, she wished that guy had just killed her.

……….

Anna sat on the bare floor alone in the cold, empty room. Her stomach grumbled from hunger, her throat dry and parched from thirst.

Her head was a mess, she was scared and terrified—what would happen now? That was her only chance to be with Rocco, now the fact she might never see him again haunted her.

She had no idea why she wasn’t in the dungeon being tortured but was given the meager punishment of starvation. Then the door creaked, and she shifted back in fear.

The door opened, and the last person she expected stood in front of it—her father’s consigliere, Giuseppe.

Her worst nightmare. Her body shook, and the way he advanced with his usual creepy smile made her want to drown herself.

“Anna,” he called, but she couldn’t hear him. Her mind wandered to the bitter memories this man had created for her. Why was he here now?

He advanced toward her, placing his hand on her bare shoulder. The contact made her skin crawl, and she badly wished she could push him away. But she couldn’t.

“Why did you run away?” His voice was calm, the corners of his eyes crinkled.

She began shivering, sweating uncontrollably. Her eyes briefly fell on the door left ajar—wanting to flee.

“I… I…” He placed his finger on her lips, letting her know that although he had asked, he didn’t care about her explanation.

Tears slipped out of her eyes without her control as he glared at her, his eyes hard as rock.

“Do you know how important this is for the clan?” he seethed. “You know nothing.”

Anna was tempted to bite his wrist and flee, but she knew that option would quicken her death.

“A peace treaty between the Lorenzo and Vincenzo mafia clans—a bride from the Lorenzos and a groom from the Vincenzos.”

A peace treaty? Her eyes narrowed. In the mafia world, things were never laid out so simply—and she was right.

“You are our key to bringing the Vincenzos down.”

Her eyes widened. She gulped, and her mind flashed back to what she had witnessed: the consigliere of the Vincenzo empire being murdered in cold blood.

“Poison the Don and his son. End their clan.” He squeezed her shoulders, the corners of his eyes crinkled as he grinned.

Anna shook her head vigorously. She would rather have a bullet in her head than do that. If she was caught, she’d be killed instantly. Taking down the Vincenzos wasn’t something anyone could do. They were sending her to an early grave.

She tipped her head up, staring him in the eyes—something she had never done.

“I can’t. I won’t.” Her voice came out hard and resolute—but was immediately followed by a heavy slap.

She fell to the floor, her hair spiraled all over her face. Giuseppe snapped his fingers, and in the next second, two men dragged a woman into the room.

Philomena. Dear God. They harshly pushed her to the floor, and Anna saw fresh wounds all over her body.

This was the only person who had shown her kindness in this clan. Her fists clenched, her blood boiled.

“Let her go! It is me you want!” Anna yelled.

Giuseppe squatted to her level. He palmed her throat. She struggled to breathe.

“You will do as you are told.”

Anna knew—they couldn’t kill her because they needed her. But that couldn’t be said for Philomena.

They needed this peace treaty to work. She was all they had because the public saw her as Francesco’s legitimate child.

He couldn’t send his other two daughters. He knew the risks involved. That’s why they were using her as the scapegoat. She had been willing to die rather than go on this suicidal mission—but now, Philomena’s life was on the line. She had no choice.

Only cold shoulders, cold glares, were all she got as she was sent away from the clan to the Vincenzo empire—to die.