LOGINThe second day after I was transferred back to Los Angeles, I ran into someone I used to know on a street corner. She stepped right in front of me, eyes going wide. “Mia? Mia Rossi? Why would you come back now? Dante's marrying Camille at the cathedral in a week.” Dante was my first love, and also the youngest heir to a mafia dynasty on this side of the Atlantic. He'd made me a promise once: that he'd make the entire Moretti family kneel and welcome me in. We had a deal: the day he officially took over as Don would be the day he married me. But his family had other plans. They arranged a match for him: Camille, a princess from one of Sicily's five great families. Pure bloodline, the genuine article. At first, Dante swore up and down she meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. Then I started noticing how he looked at her. Softer every time. Like he was falling. One night, riding home after a shift at the bar, Camille's car came out of nowhere and took me down. The gas tank caught, and half the block reeked of burning rubber and scorched metal. I was pinned under the wreckage, blood seeping from the back of my skull down my neck, warm at first, then cold. Dante was the first one there. He beat the ambulance. The first thing he did was walk past me. He crouched down, lifted Camille out of the passenger seat, and didn't look at me once, just dropped a few words over his shoulder: “I already called an ambulance. Hang tight. Camille's had too much to drink. I need to get her home.” That was the moment I was done with him. Completely, finally done. While he was gone, I discharged myself. I bought the farthest plane ticket I could find that same night and left without looking back. Five years passed. “Mia, you have no idea.” The woman grabbed my wrist, dropping her voice. “Dante spent years turning half of Europe upside down looking for you. You came back at the right time. He still keeps a seat for you every month on his birthday. Camille's too proud for a lot of things,
View MoreMy story with Rafael starts the same place everything does: the night of that crash, five years ago.After Dante drove away with Camille, I lay in the street and thought I was going to die.Rafael happened to be passing by.He pulled over, crouched down beside me, and pressed his jacket hard against the back of my head.I couldn't speak anymore.I remember he asked one question: “Is there anything you can't let go of?”I used the last thing I had. “My mother — hospital—”He made the call immediately and covered the full surgery deposit on the spot.When I came to, he was sitting in the chair beside my bed.“I tracked down all twenty-one people you borrowed from. I paid back every one of them.”“From today, you only owe one person.”I found out later that Rafael was in the middle of his own crisis that night.The Kavin family was working a cross-border acquisition: eight layers of money laundering traps laid by a competitor, and the whole thing was about to go sideways. Everyone around
The next three months were rough on Dante.After the financing collapsed, he tried other channels, and every one of them fell through at the last minute.He tried liquidating the family's European port holdings. Buyers pulled out at the final stage.He called in old favors. The people who used to bow their heads and pick up on the first ring stopped answering.Blocked at every turn, every door closing before he could get his foot in.He never figured it out, that every one of those dead ends led back to Rafael. The civilian he'd written off.The Moretti name, once capable of making half the East Coast hold its breath, became a red flag on every risk assessment sheet in the city.With nowhere left to turn, Dante did what cornered men always do. He found someone to blame.He decided it was Camille.She was the one who'd hit me that night, he told himself. She'd crippled my hand. She'd been the voice on that call. And because of what she'd done, I'd come back with a grudge and buried the
I turned around.Rafael walked toward us, suit sharp, one hand holding Lily's. She'd just had a bath and her hair was still damp.The moment she spotted me, she pulled free and launched herself at me. “Mommy!”I caught her.Rafael came to stand beside me, his hand settling on my shoulder, easy and natural.He looked at Dante, unhurried.“And you are?”“Dante Moretti,” I said. “The investor meeting today. His family.”“Ah.” Rafael gave a polite nod. “Rafael Kavin. Mia's husband.”Dante took him in: the suit, the watch, every inch of him. Nothing about Rafael read as underworld. No tells. No weight.What Dante saw was a civilian. A man with some money and a lucky break. The kind of man he could crush without a second thought.“Mr. Kavin.” Dante's smile didn't reach his eyes. “Are you aware that your wife used to belong to me?”Rafael raised an eyebrow.“I'm aware.” A beat. “I know everything about her. And I know that you held another woman while she bled out in the street.”Dante's expr
The meeting came to order.The chair called the investor representative to the table.I stood up, took off my glasses, and walked to the head of the long table.Dante's coffee cup hit the edge of the table with a sharp crack. Camille's crossed leg froze in midair.“...Mia?” Dante was on his feet. “What are you doing here?”I didn't look at him.I pulled out the chair and sat down, opening the file.“Cross-border financing. Two billion dollars. I represent the investors.”“You represent them?” Camille let out a short laugh. “On whose authority? Which firm was blind enough to send you?”I didn't argue. I turned to the first page.“Item one. I've reviewed the asset collateral list submitted by the Moretti family.”“Three of the berths at Long Island Harbor have title issues.”“Five years ago, laundered proceeds from a smuggling operation were used in the acquisition of those three berths.”“This stain is unacceptable to the investors.”The documents in my hands were detailed, specific, ex






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