Prologue

Delfina Poletti was terrified.

There was nothing in her Catholic upbringing, neither anything the nuns who taught at her local school nor anything her parents shared at home, could have done to prepare her for the situation unfolding in front of her.

Since the night, her cousin Nek came home to break the news he’d stolen bank statements, forged documents, then lost Delfina’s parent’s restaurant in a high-stakes poker game, her world was turned upside down on its head. Not only did he lie and steal from his family, but he used his mediocre forgery skills to inflate the value of the restaurant upwards of a million dollars. He then apparently led the people at the poker table to believe it was a Michelin-rated restaurant where people from all over New York state came to eat. The truth was it was worth a hundred thousand dollars, if that, and the only people driving all over the state were the truckers who ate there.

Nek thought it was a sure thing when his poker hand of four of a kind, all aces. Ercole Muraro pulled out a straight flush seven through jack. Muraro was quick to find out Nek bet stakes he didn’t have, and he wanted his money or the equivalent.

Not thirty minutes after Nek’s confession which her parents were still reeling from, she and her cousin Caprice were ordered to hide in the bedroom closets and not come out no matter what. Muraro accompanied by his men showed up to get his payment in the form of Nek’s head. It turned out Ercole Muraro was connected to an Italian mafia and despite the game being a personal one, he was using his power to collect his debts.

While Nek and her parents were being assaulted, Delfina and Caprice were struggling to not sob aloud. Ercole Muraro’s thugs went through the house looking for any and all valuables which might be used towards the million-dollar debt. What the thugs found were two women huddling together in a closet terrified. Dragged downstairs by their hair and thrown at Ercole’s feet, the elderly man stumbled backwards and then ordered his men to cease. He’d found what he wanted to take in exchange for the lives of Nek and Delfina’s parents.

Now, Delfina Poletti was officially Delfina Muraro, a twenty-one-year-old bride to a seventy-six-year-old man with an axe to grind and a point to prove. One week ago, in Ercole’s office in front of a cleric, four witnesses she was married. When she used her new cell phone to search the witnesses on the internet were all in the mafia in one way or another. She was now Ercole’s wife and he intended they were husband and wife in every sense of the word and his friends were there to enforce it if necessary.

He made sure she knew there was no escape. If she didn’t willingly get into his bed, their agreement came to an end and her cousin and parents would die. She couldn’t lie and say Ercole was rough with her in their marital bed. He’d taken exceptionally good care to ensure she was given pleasure and her first time being with a man was gentle. However, no amount of his care during the deed made up for the fact, she was made to feel like a whore paying a debt owed by her family with her body to a man who not only terrified her, but one she despised.

“Delfina,” his deep voice cut into her thoughts, “I understand your tiny brain cannot comprehend more than a few simple instructions at a time, but may I remind you not to fuck this up? There will be important people here this evening. My godson is here and I’m quite excited to see him. He was out of the country all week and he’s back today. My daughter and her children are here as well. My grandson is not a total waste of space but the rest of them are useless. Do not under any circumstances think they can do anything to save you or help you. My daughter moved out before her eighteenth birthday when she was married to the fuckwad she calls her husband. I see her monthly but otherwise I avoid the group of them. They’re smart but they grate on my nerves. They will pay you the respect you deserve as my wife.” He paused, “or else.”

“Yes, Ercole.”

“Good. Kiss me.”

She blinked at him and then leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. He tasted of whisky and mint. She did have to give it to him he was all about hygiene and health. He ran every morning. He worked out for hours. He took pride in his fitness. She supposed it was because he was quite possibly the ugliest man, she’d ever had the misfortune to meet. She didn’t know which eye to look at as they both seemed to stare in opposite directions, he sported only a few strands of hair which were combed over his shiny scalp, his nose was bulbous and clearly broken multiple times in the past and his mouth was far too wide for his face. He was quite possibly what little children saw in their minds when they thought of the boogey man. When a man was this ugly, inside, and out, it made sense he made up for his shortcomings with a body to defy time.

His tongue slipped into her mouth, and she fought not to gag as he ravished her while the car drew to a halt outside the hotel where the Christmas party for his company was being held.

“It’s too bad we’re here already. I’d like you on you, my cock.”

She tried to control her shudder of revulsion as she nearly jumped from her skin when the door pulled open, and the driver extended his hand to Ercole. She tugged downward on the short skirt Ercole dressed her in. It was barely an inch below her ass and the cleavage was so deep her nipples were barely concealed and her navel was not. She felt like a hooker, albeit a high end one. Once again, she cursed Nek in her head and prayed, he surfaced from his coma Ercole’s men put him in if only for her to be able to kick him in the balls.

Entering the brightly lit and cheerful ballroom on Ercole’s arm, she looked around the room and her eyes caught sight of a man in the far corner of the room, leaning against the bar, talking to a woman who nodding vigorously. His eyes met hers and he straightened up. She knew him. Furio Matrone. Ercole’s godson and quite possibly the most handsome man she’d ever seen in her life. However, he scared her even more than Ercole did. While her brain feared him more than anything in the world, her foolish body craved him even more.

When she’d met him in Ercole’s office, her body sprung to life only to retreat into itself when he congratulated her and Ercole on their nuptials and winked at Ercole to enjoy his wedding night. He’d then told her bluntly if she did anything to upset his godfather it was Furio Matrone who she would have to deal with. She took the threat seriously.

Despite how beautiful of a male specimen he was, with a tall muscular frame, deep brown eyes and long glossy black hair tied at the back of his head in a man bun, he scared her. Ercole told her the man was closer to fifty than forty, something the men all teased Furio about and he’d taken good naturedly, but his eyes never returned back on Delfina the rest of the time he’d been in the house.

There was something about his power which oozed off him and she’d overheard Ercole call him Capo. When she researched it, it seemed this man was Ercole’s boss. Despite being his godson, Furio Matrone outranked the older, more experienced man and it, in and of itself was bloody terrifying. Across the room he gave her a curt nod and returned his attention to the woman beside him.

Movement at the side of the room caused Ercole’s grunting to reoccur.

“There is my idiot daughter and her offspring. Only thing the woman was good for was birthing children intellectually superior to her. Be on your behavior, Delfina.”

“Yes Ercole,” she whispered as she looked in the direction of his daughter and children. For some reason, she’d expected the children to be young. Instead, his daughter Olympia was quite possibly the same age as Delfina’s mother and her children were older than Delfina, if only by a decade or so. Maybe she could make friends with them, and life with Ercole wouldn’t be so hard. She saw the way Olympia’s son’s eyes widened when he saw her and the beginning of a smile curved his lips. He was handsome and devastatingly so. She could picture him on the cover of GQ magazine in one of those fancy suits. She bet even his underwear were ironed and pressed, he seemed so well put together. She hoped they’d be able to get along.

“Ah mistletoe.”

Ercole’s words caused her to freeze before looking up and swallowing nervously.

“Be my wife, Delfina. Do not let anyone in this room believe you are anything other than my wife.”

“Yes Ercole.” She leaned into him to press a chaste kiss to his lips and nearly groaned with disgust and irritation when his meaty hands grabbed her by the ass, grinding her against his pelvis and shoving his tongue so far down her throat she was sure he reached her esophagus.

The murmurs which filled the room as Ercole pretty much sucked her face raw, messing her hair and her makeup with total disregard for his inappropriate behavior.

As if he wanted the entire room to know they were sleeping together he broke the kiss and declared loudly, “god damn I can’t wait to go home and fuck you until dawn.”

“Yes Ercole,” she nodded her agreement while her stomach struggled not to empty its contents on the floor.

A quick look around the room told her Furio Matrone was nowhere to be seen and Olympia and her family were glaring at her as if she’d shot the family dog. It wasn’t hard to read the woman’s lips.

“Gold digging slut!”

Great. Something told Delfina nothing short of a miracle was going to make her married life with Ercole Muraro anything short of a hell on earth. Shooting a glance at the man gripping her hand tight in his as he dragged her across the room, for the first time in her entire life, Delfina prayed for a man to die because it was the only way she was getting out of this marriage.

All she needed to do was outlive him.