2

Before I can try to catch my balance, I fall to my knees while my mother’s fingers tighten around my wrist, making a sharp pain shoot up my arm. My free hand slaps against the tiled floor to stop me from face-planting in front of everyone.

“Get up,” Stefano growls beneath his breath.

Intense embarrassment burns through me, and before I can scramble back onto my feet, Damiano walks right by me, his steps filled with confidence and threats of death.

Mother yanks at my wrist, sending another sharp pain up my arm. “You’re embarrassing us,” she hisses between clenched teeth.

I struggle to my feet, in time to see all the men rush after Damiano. Even though this is his first time here, he heads straight for the living room.

Stefano shoots me a dark glare that promises nothing good for me before he disappears from my sight.

I’m yanked again, and I barely have time to fix my dress as my mother hurries to catch up to the men.

“Stop yanking me,” I snap at Mother while managing to rip my wrist free from her hold.

She shoots me an angry glare, that’s usually followed by a slap, but we enter the living room, making her restrain herself because of present company.

I notice Damiano’s pouring himself a tumbler of my father’s best bourbon while all the men look at him with anticipation on their faces.

My eyes dart over the gun tucked into his pants' waistband before locking on his broad shoulders. He turns around, and as he takes a sip of the drink, his eyes slowly creep over everyone in the room.

“You must be tired, cousin,” Stefano says. “Why not take an hour to rest before we sit down for the meeting?”

Damiano doesn’t even acknowledge what his cousin says, and when his eyes lock on me for a second time, the shiver rushing over my body is more intense than before.

His lips part, and I swear I can feel everyone hold their breaths as they wait to hear what the Capo dei Capi has to say.

“Come,” he orders. His low and deadly tone is filled with ice, making a wintry chill spread through my veins.

When I don’t move, Mother shoves me in Damiano’s direction.

With every step I take closer to him, my legs feel like they’ll turn to jelly and give way beneath me.

I suck in an audible breath when I stop mere inches from him and force my spine to straighten so I don’t cower in front of the dangerous man.

Lifting my head, my eyes meet his, and every muscle in my body tightens as dread pours through me.

Caro Dio.

He’s easily a head taller than me, and I’m wearing high heels. Barefoot, I’d probably only reach the middle of his chest.

I have no doubt he can kill me with a single punch.

Damiano downs the last of the amber liquid in the tumbler, and as he holds it out to his side, Santo has to hurry to catch the glass when Damiano lets go of it.

He couldn’t even be bothered with putting the damn tumbler down on the table.

The Capo dei Capi’s ruthless gaze moves from my head to my toes before flicking back to my face.

Even though my body starts to tremble with fear, I somehow manage to keep my chin raised.

Damiano locks eyes with me, and when it feels like he’s digging his way into the deepest parts of my soul, I can’t stop myself from taking a step backward.

My hands fist tightly at my sides, and swallowing hard, I force myself not to move further away from him.

His eyes narrow on me, and he slowly tilts his head.

Dio.

My mouth grows bone dry under his intense scrutiny.

Suddenly, a hand slaps against the back of my head, and I’m forced to look down.

“I apologize, Mr. Falco,” Father mutters angrily. “She’s usually more obedient. I don’t know what’s gotten into her today.”

With my father’s fingers wrapped around the back of my neck, I’m yanked backward and shoved toward Mother.

She grabs hold of my arm and drags me out of the living room.

I hear Damiano let out a sigh, making it sound like he’s bored with the entire spectacle, then he orders, “Show me to a room where I can have privacy.”

Mother doesn’t stop walking until I’m shoved into my bedroom. The door slams shut, and as I turn to face her, she starts to slap me wildly, her palms burning over every inch of my face and torso.

In a moment of absolute madness, I bring my arms up between us and shove my mother away from me while shouting, “Enough!”

My outburst shocks her so much she stares at me with wide eyes. “Have you lost your mind?” she gasps.

My bedroom door opens, and as Stefano steps into my private space, he mutters, “I’ll deal with my fiancée.”

Mother shoots me an enraged glare before giving Stefano a trembling smile. “Thank you.”

When she leaves the room, dread spins in my stomach as I try to brace for what’s to come.