Eighteenth Century

Perfection was the curse. I was born into wealth, beauty, influence, and a family empire that stretched across continents. People envied my life, not knowing it was nothing more than a gilded prison. The only thing that ever felt real was ballet, the passion my parents forbade because it brought them no power, no profit, no leverage. My parents; greedy, ambitious, unfillable, hid their cruelty beneath luxury. And on my eighteenth birthday, they revealed the ultimate betrayal. I was engaged to a powerful man twice. . . no, three times my age. A man feared across Europe. A man whose hands were stained with secrets the world pretended not to see. They sold me to strengthen an alliance. So I ran. Barefoot, shaking, heartbroken. I stole one of our visitor's chopper and fled to Sicily, thinking distance could save me. I thought I escaped the monsters who owned my life. But I only ran into a darker one. Because Sicily is his territory; Aldrick Moretti, the shadow king of the Italian underworld. Cold. Untouchable. Beautiful in the most devastating way. The man people whisper about as if speaking his name is a sin. A man with eyes that see through lies. . . including mine. And the moment he found me trespassing on his land, bleeding, terrified, and wearing the remnants of a runaway bride. . . He didn’t return me. He didn’t free me. He claimed me. Not as a business deal. Not as an alliance. But as something far more dangerous. He became my captor, my protector, my obsession, and the forbidden flame I should never have touched. Because in his world, love is not tender. It’s a weapon. And I am the sacrifice wrapped in a veil he refuses to let go.