Chapter 1

The gun smoke had barely cleared. Sera lay crumpled on the carpet, clutching her bleeding chest. Her cashmere dress was soaked dark red.

Someone kicked the mahogany door open from outside.

Luca burst in, bringing a blast of cold air with him. His hair was disheveled, and two buttons were missing from his overcoat.

He seized me by the collar and slammed me full-force against the cold stone wall.

"Who the hell gave you permission to shoot her?"

Luca glared at me, his jaw clenched.

"She's here on the Commission's orders! How dare you touch her?"

My back slammed into a protruding stone brick, sending a dull pain through my spine. I wiped away the blood where a shell casing had grazed my neck.

I didn't fight back. Instead, I calmly reached up and straightened his tie, which the wind had knocked crooked.

"Remember that oath you swore five years ago? You sliced open your own flesh before the Virgin Mary and made me a promise. Or have you forgotten?"

I held his furious gaze, my voice slow and deliberate.

"You swore there'd never be another female near your throne. Not a woman, not even a damn bird."

A murderous look flashed in Luca's eyes. His grip tightened around my wrist until my bones creaked.

He whipped out the bloodstained marriage contract and smacked me across the temple with it.

The edge of the paper sliced my cheek, drawing a thin line of blood.

"Is killing all you're good for? You've become nothing but a bloodthirsty butcher!"

Luca pointed at the woman on the floor and snarled at me.

"That agreement came straight from the Commission! It's the only thing keeping our underground casinos in Brooklyn safe. Can't you see what's at stake here?"

The contract fluttered to the carpet, and I bent down and picked it up.

Right in front of him, I seized the contract by both ends and ripped it in half.

Then into four. Then eight.

I flung the shredded pieces onto his gleaming black leather shoes.

"Drowning people, severing fingers, ripping out teeth—who do you think taught me every last one of those tricks? You did."

I looked at him and laughed softly.

"And now you're disgusted by me? Now I'm suddenly too much of a butcher for you?"

Luca's chest heaved. His raised hand froze in midair, and his face darkened with fury.

The underground clinic's sliding door burst open, and the sharp smell of disinfectant cut through the stench of blood.

The Marchetti family's chief surgeon pulled off his bloody latex gloves, hurried to Luca's side, and bowed his head as he gave his report.

"Don, the bullet missed her heart by just over an inch. She has a rare condition called dextrocardia—her heart is on the right side. Her vital organs are intact. She'll live."

At that, the tension drained from Luca's shoulders.

He let out a long breath, and even the fingers hanging at his side began to tremble.

"Dextrocardia... Thank God."

Luca murmured, a flash of wild joy in his eyes.

"What are the odds? She has the same rare heart condition as me. It's a miracle."

Standing off to the side, I went cold all over.

I had shared his bed for five years. I had shielded him from seven assassination attempts and carried 11 bullet and knife scars to prove it.

And yet, all it took for this woman fresh off the plane from Sicily to become his miracle was a heart in the wrong place.

The wheels of a gurney screeched across the floor as two nurses pushed Sera out.

Her pale face was hidden behind an oxygen mask. The moment she spotted me, she broke into a violent coughing fit, her eyes burning with hatred.

Sera tore off the mask and grabbed Luca's sleeve, an emerald ring glinting on her finger.

"Execute her! Luca, under the old country's code, anyone who tries to assassinate the Don's lawful fiancée hangs at the docks!"

Sera coughed up blood as she shrieked, her voice echoing down the empty hall.

I reached down to my thigh holster and pulled out my tactical knife.

Without a word, I stepped forward and aimed the tip at Sera's unprotected throat.

The first bullet hadn't killed her, so I would finish the job with a blade.

Before my blade could reach her throat, Luca seized my wrist.

Luca stepped between us and drove his knee up into my stomach.

The blow knocked the air out of me. I flew backward and slammed into the hard tile floor.

I tasted blood in my throat. Before I could get up, a cold gun barrel was jammed against my forehead.

Luca pressed his gold-plated Browning, the symbol of his absolute authority, against my forehead so hard it hurt.

"You really think I can't bring myself to kill you?"

Luca looked down at me, his index finger perfectly steady on the trigger.

The dozen or so soldiers in black standing guard lowered their heads at once. No one dared meet the Don's fury.

On the gurney, Sera gave a weak, scornful laugh. She looked like she had already won.

Luca put away his gun and wiped the blood off his shoes. Without another look at me, he gave his men a cold order.

"Lock her in the wine cellar. Anyone who lets her out without my orders goes to feed the fish in the East River."