Chapter 1

A heavy boot kicked the metal door open. It slammed into the damp brick wall. Rust rained down like powder.

Heavy boots stopped outside in the hall. Gun barrels raised at once, sealing off my cramped Brooklyn flat.

My hands shook violently. Three white anti-rejection pills slipped from my palm and hit the floor.

They didn't roll far. A polished designer shoe crushed them to dust.

"Still careless as ever, Miss Vane."

The cold, deep voice dropped over me.

I forced my head up. Cold gray eyes pinned me to the spot.

Matteo stood in the doorway. Rain clung to his black coat. He wasn't the loyal underboss who took a blade for me five years ago. He was the head of the Kovacs family now. He had built his throne on a pile of skulls.

A young woman stood beside him in a cream wool coat. Her stomach curved outward just enough to show.

Matteo stubbed out his cigar from above. He stared down at my hollow cheeks and my frail frame lost inside an oversized sweater. A thin sneer formed on his lips.

"The loan sharks told me the Vane princess was rotting away in the gutter." He leaned in close. I could feel his warm breath against my skin. "What happened, Princess? Too weak to look me in the eye now?"

It had been so long since he was this close to me. I shuddered and pulled back a little. I swallowed the metallic taste rising in my throat. I yanked my sleeve down to hide the needle marks on my hand.

"I took a fall. Tore a ligament." I kept my voice flat and even managed a tight smile. "I doubt Mr. Kovacs bought out my family's debts just to see me like this."

Matteo frowned as he searched my eyes. I couldn't read whatever passed through them. Maybe he was just angry at my disrespect. He used to look at me like I was his entire world. Now, the fire was dead.

"You're not worth the effort." Matteo let go. He took a wipe from his guard and cleaned his fingers slowly. "I bought the twelve million your father owed. That means your life belongs to me now."

The woman hooked her arm through his with a sweet, poisonous smile. "Don't be so cruel, Matteo. Our wedding is on the sixth at St. Patrick's. We need someone who knows the old syndicate traditions to handle the guest list. Since Miss Vane can't walk well, she can sit in the back room and organize the bridal toasts. What do you think?"

She noticed me looking. She gasped softly and covered her mouth. "Oh, where are my manners? I'm Camila, Matteo's fiancée. I really should thank you for walking away from him five years ago. So, will you do us the favor?"

"I would love to, but as you can see, I'm a mess. I won't ruin your big day." I looked down. "Congratulations to you both."

Matteo's eyes grew cold. "Fix your leg by next month. I don't take excuses, Sienna."

He turned and walked away. His men followed. The heavy steps faded down the hall.

I sank against the wall, drained. Another man slipped through the doorway from the shadows. Kurt. He had been old Boss Victor's enforcer.

"Old Victor was right about you." Kurt shut the door behind him. He looked at my pale skin and sneered. "Five years, and you actually kept your mouth shut. Surprised you haven't dropped dead yet."

Pain shot through my ribs. The past rushed back, uninvited.

Five years ago. The day I got my terminal diagnosis. I walked out of the clinic numb, clutching the lab reports.

My best friend texted me that Matteo had bought a ring. Before I could even cry, two men dragged me into a black armored car.

Inside, old Boss Victor pressed a loaded Colt to my forehead.

"Did you know? He found out he's my blood. But he refused to take his birthright because of you. He wants to stay your little underboss forever."

He glanced down at the medical papers in my grip. "I saw your charts. My heir doesn't need a dying girl dragging him into an early grave."

I shattered his heart that very night. Five years passed. Now he was colder, deadlier, and engaged to another woman. And me? I was running out of time.

"If you're going to die, do it quietly." Kurt pulled a suppressed piece from his jacket and twirled it. "Matteo is the Don now. The wedding happens no matter what. No distractions. You open your mouth to him, and I'll end you myself."

"Get the hell away from her!" My mother, Elena, burst through the door with a bag of groceries. She grabbed a rusty wrench from the table and swung it at Kurt's skull. "Get out! Leave my girl alone!"

The wrench smashed into the wood frame. Kurt stepped back effortlessly. He sneered at my sobbing mother, then looked back at me. "Remember what I said, Sienna. Dying quietly is the only mercy you get."

The door slammed. Elena threw her arms around me and sobbed against my shoulder. "We have to leave, Sienna. We have to get out of New York. They're going to kill you."

"I can't run, Mom." I rubbed her back gently. Then I felt the warmth rush up my nose. I threw my head back and clamped a hand over my face. Dark blood dripped through my fingers anyway.

I knew the truth. My body was giving out.

Next month. The sixth. St. Patrick's. We made our vows for that very cathedral back when he loved me. If I have to take my last breath there, so be it. I just want to be close enough to see him smile one last time.