4

Before I can hear more of the conversation between Damiano and Stefano, I’m pulled into my bedroom, and seconds later, five men come into my private space and roughly start throwing my belongings into bags.

I can’t think a single coherent thought as Mother thrusts an outfit into my hands before shoving me into the bathroom.

“Get changed. Hurry,” she orders before yanking the door shut.

I hear my bedroom being torn apart while I stare at the doorknob.

This isn’t happening.

“Hurry, Gabriella, or I’ll come in and dress you myself,” Mother threatens.

In a stunned daze, I start to undress and quickly put on the light pink pantsuit. The pants are three-quarter in length and look good with the black five-inch heels.

Mother forgot to grab a blouse, but I shrug on the jacket and fasten the two buttons. A sliver of black lace from my bra is visible.

Taking a moment for myself, I wash my hands and pull a brush through my hair before I open the cupboards to dig out toiletry bags. I quickly pack my perfume, toiletries, and bath and skincare products.

I can’t believe I’m leaving with Damiano Falco. I have no idea what it means for my future, and it terrifies the hell out of me.

But I hurry because I don’t dare keep the man waiting.

If I take too long, he might just kill me for wasting his time.

Dio.

My fear multiplies by the second as I realize I’ll be at the mercy of the Capo dei Capi of the Cosa Nostra. I’m leaving my life in Sicily behind to start a new one in New York. Everything will be foreign and dangerous.

The bathroom door slams open, and when Mother sees I’m busy packing, she comes to help.

When I walk into my bedroom it looks like a tornado swept through it, the drawers and closets standing open.

The guard that’s been at Mr. Falco’s side since they arrived holds a bag open and orders, “Throw your toiletries in here.”

I do as I’m told.

“Is there anything we missed that you’d like to bring?”

I quickly check all the drawers, the closet, and the bathroom, shocked at how quickly my life’s been packed up.

When I shake my head Mother holds out a black pouch to me. “This contains your personal documents. Don’t lose it.”

“I’ll take it,” the guard says, swiping the pouch from Mother’s hand.

When she grabs hold of my wrist again, the guard says, “Miss di Bella will come with me.”

Holy shit. In a matter of minutes my family no longer have any authority over me.

I pull free from my mother’s hold, and not even sparing her a glance, I follow the guard out of the bedroom where I’ve spent most of my time.

Crap, this is really happening.

My dire circumstances really start to sink in as I take the staircase down to the foyer and walk with the guard toward the front door.

“Let us know when you land in New York,” Mother calls out.

I’m too worried about my own survival to pay her any attention.

As I step out of the house, it’s to see Santo and my father standing near an SUV with blacked-out windows.

Father hurries closer to me. “Find out what he wants with you and let me know,” he orders.

The guard takes hold of my arm, his touch not biting like I’m used to, then my eyes widen as he pushes Father out of my way.

The guard opens the back door to the SUV and nods toward the backseat for me to climb inside.

“Mr. Falco,” Father says, hoping to get the Capo dei Capi’s attention as I slide into the backseat. “Why are you taking Gabriella?”

Damiano is busy typing something on his phone and doesn’t even bother acknowledging my father’s question.

The guard shuts the door, and I can only suck in desperate breaths when I find myself alone with Damiano.

Luckily, his attention remains on the device in his hands.

I dare to slowly turn my head to glance at the imposing man beside me. The expensive fabric of his pants clings to his muscled thighs, and for a moment, I notice the way-too-big bulge behind his zipper before I quickly turn my head away.

Caro Dio.

I suck in another desperate breath as my eyes land on my family.

I don’t feel any heartache when the guard climbs behind the steering wheel and starts the engine. When the SUV begins to move, my eyes dart over the house.

I haven’t known any love and never felt safe between those walls.

My eyes lower to my hands, and seeing the red marks on my arms and around my wrist, I brush my fingers lightly over them.

What will become of me?