Chapter 1

I stood in the doorway. The suitcase slipped from my hand and hit the floor hard.

"How long... have you two been together?" My voice came out strained and shaky.

Victor saw me first. He pushed Bella away and planted himself squarely in front of her.

"I was drunk that day and walked into the wrong bathroom. I lost control for a minute."

When I saw the hickeys all over Bella's neck, I pulled my Beretta from my waistband and aimed it at Victor.

Victor didn't dodge. Instead, he stepped forward and pressed the gun hard against his own chest.

"Sofia, if it'll make you feel better, shoot me right here! Just don't touch Bella, and my life is yours!"

My gun hand wouldn't stop shaking.

Two years ago, a rival family kidnapped me at an abandoned dock in Palermo.

Back then, Victor had stormed in alone, just like this. Facing dozens of guns, he'd shouted that they could have his life as long as they didn't touch me.

Now he was saying the exact same words to protect my sister.

Bella rushed out from behind him.

"Sis, please don't kill Victor. This isn't all his fault!"

Her hand landed right on the bullet wound in my side.

I grunted in pain.

The freshly bandaged wound tore open again, and blood quickly soaked my trench coat.

Victor's expression changed. He stepped forward at once to steady me.

"You're hurt? What the hell happened in Mexico?"

I shook off his hand.

I'd gone there just to settle the books and ended up caught in a local cartel's civil war.

If Dante Moretti from Milan hadn't stepped in to save me, I'd be a corpse right now.

But I wasn't in the mood to explain. I forced out two words. "Cartel infighting."

Bella paled and ran to the living room for the first-aid kit.

"Sis, you're bleeding so much. Let me bandage it..."

Her hands shook as she reached to open my coat. I slapped her hand away.

"Don't touch me."

I snatched the gauze and clotting powder from her, gritted my teeth, pulled my clothes aside, and hastily bandaged the wound.

Bella sank onto the rug, tears rolling down her face. She bit her lip, looking wronged but not daring to make a sound.

Victor frowned, picked up the first-aid kit, and held it out to me with a sigh.

"Sofia, don't take it out on Bella. She was worried about you too. While you were gone, she stayed up several nights in a row making you a birthday present."

I followed his gaze to a framed oil painting on the living room table. It showed the country cottage where I used to live with my parents.

My head throbbed.

Twenty years ago, my parents died in an accident when Bella was still a baby.

At eight, I held Bella in my arms, knelt before Don Cordano, and swore my loyalty.

From then on, I became the family's most cold-blooded cleaner and its human calculator.

I was ruthless with everyone else. Every bit of my tenderness, I saved for her.

I'd spent two months dodging bullets in Mexico, and all that time she'd been in my room, climbing into my man's bed.

Victor took off his suit jacket, draped it over Bella, and patted her back.

"Bella, go back to your room. I'll handle this."

Only after the bedroom door closed did Victor turn and light a Cuban cigar.

"What's done is done. I have to take responsibility for Bella. Tomorrow I'll have my lawyer send you that thirty-million-euro cashier's check from the Swiss bank. Consider it compensation."

I looked at him and laughed out loud.

"Victor, I control this family's finances. Every cent you spend goes through me. You don't get to throw it around just to shut me up."

Victor blew out a smoke ring. His face darkened.

"Then what do you want?"

I met his eyes and spoke slowly.

"I want you to sign a permanent asset custody agreement right now and move all your private assets into the main accounts. Even if you marry her someday and make her your Donna, every cent you two spend will need my signature."