EmmaI'm unsure why I'm upset that Luca will be gone for at least forty-eight hours or more; it's not like we spend every waking minute with one another in some loved-up bliss before our seemingly fake wedding.The thing is, since he put this contraption on my finger, we've spent less than half an hour with one another, and twenty-eight minutes of that was at the dinner table with his parents.Unfortunately, I was tasked with getting rid of his parents on top of the emotional turmoil that he was walking into an ambush with a man who had already tried to kill his father because that's what this is, isn't it?An ambush.My training makes me question all of their sanity, but right here and now, I have his mother to contend with."Take a walk with me?" She asks, leaving her husband's side to grab for my elbow in encouragement.I don't point out that I have no shoes; I know it's a ploy to give the two Moretta men time to talk.Who am I to turn down their need for privacy?"Sure."She walks
"I'm sure you've seen his mood swings firsthand, and you felt the slick sweat covering his skin. He was lost after my husband had you sent away. He searched for a new way to fill the hole you've always been able to fill for him. But you must open your eyes to see you were too in love, far too soon. A teenage boy is reckless at the best of times, but throw in the weight of the crown that would one day be bestowed upon him and then a girl, one he fell irrevocably in love with so early on that his life started and ended with you from the age of nine..." she chuckles humorously. "I think you'll agree that you would only have been a distraction, a target to have been taken, knowing the young Moretta would die a thousand deaths only to save the girl he saved once before. Many call it childish love; my husband and I chose to call it stupidity of the heart.""E allora, avete deciso tutti il nostro destino come se non avessimo voce in capitolo nel nostro destino? Forse se me lo avessi chiest
LucaI haven't endeavoured to pack much because I don't plan on being away for more than a few days. Still, I ensure I have one spare set of black combats and enough straps to hold more guns to my body than ever before. I have a vest to ensure I don't get shot in vital places that might well help me bleed to an untimely death.My legs and arms will have to be sacrificed, and if they decide to shoot to kill, then my pretty face is of no use to me in the face of death.The importance of this kill strikes through me, making me cognisant of the fact that an attempt on my father's life has not happened in a long, long while.Perhaps not since he was gearing up to taking the throne from his father.Is the timing coincidental?I think not.I'm just slinging the bag over my shoulder, having given myself the pep talk to walk out of this house, intent on not returning until my charge is complete when Emma enters our bedroom. Her eyes are wide, her cheeks flushed as if she were only warming up f
Reaching for her ring, I turn her palm up, stroking the date sixteen years ago when she had almost drowned out of fear of falling into less than eight inches of water. It would have been so easy for her to be able to save herself, but she panicked so much that she failed the only natural instinct we are born with. Survival. That day, she failed to do the only thing our brain knows from the moment we take our first breath, just like she's panicking now.But what she doesn't know is I'm the snake. I slide in and slip out without so much as a batted eyelid.This man will be dead before tomorrow and, if not then, the early hours of the morning after.He doesn't know what's coming for him; he doesn't understand the gravity of his treachery, nor does he expect the son of the man he chose to execute to avenge such a decision.My father stated that it was a stupid move to have me fly out there, ready to kill him. And that's why he won't be expecting it. Everyone expects us to keep our securit
EmmaI can't sleep; I know I should, but the beat of my heart has changed; it's painful. Uneven. Luca walked out with half of it when he left with his team. So here I sit in our bedroom where he left me.I know the importance of ensuring a message is sent, but surely, they have hitmen who could carry out this formidable task.I grab the book on the bedside table and read it all night.The bedside light lets me see the words on the pages, and I devour over thirty chapters before the sun comes up.Is he there yet?Has he set up his sniper to kill the man who tried to kill his father?Does he have someone on the inside to give him intel on the target's whereabouts, movements, and routines? Or will he make it more personal, merely intersecting the man to show him who decided to kill him in retaliation?Is it wrong of me to want him to do the latter so the man knows his worth and mistake all in one go?That's what I'd do; I would have got him alone and tortured a hole into his leg, stabbi
A girl walks along the hallway half-dressed, being escorted by a man in black as they appear every so often in the windows. But Niko's appearance, who walks outside in nothing but a pair of lowly hung lounge pants, his body bronzed like any Italian god, that intrigues me. His chest chiseled to perfection, a deep v running down into those pants. My eyes rise back up to his face; his usually sleeked-back hair now acts as a curtain to either side of his face. A cigarette hangs from his lips as his bellows smoke into the air above him.Heat lances through me at the sight of him, and I don't allow the deep-seated emotions for Luca to pass judgment that I find his most trusted man hot."I see you, little spy," he whispers, barely audible for me to hear, yet I see his eyes seek me out, our gazes clashing in a way they shouldn't.Heat unfurls in my core, and for a long and adulterous moment, I allow my mind to imagine him fucking me out here in the tree line.I have only one memory to go off
LucaTravelling to France is usually more for pleasure than business, but here I lay on the mountainside with my target in his rather large abode, ready to kill him. So now it's being tinted by blood thirst instead of awe.I'd been watching all day, and he hadn't exited the house alone as Niko had suggested he might. This means I am running out of patience, and I barely have any to begin with.Do I just shoot through the window of his apparent office that he's failed to leave, or do I wait it out another day in the hopes of a clean shot that will no doubt kill?Kill.That's the demand that flung through my father's lips. So that decides it; I'll have to wait him out.One of my men army crawls beside me, Luke, with his sniper; he sets it on the floor and starts to look through the scope as I side-eye him once.He's middle-aged and has toured more times than usual, with his count being thirteen. He's the best shot in my men besides myself, so I see why they sent him.The team must be g
"Job done?" Mass, my number three, jumps to attention as he throws his half-smoked cigarette to the floor before grinding his foot on it with a huge smile as if already knowing the answer."Job done; let's get home to the others," I nod, slinging my gun inside the boot and grabbing a bottle of water because I'm more than parched after laying out under the beating sun."Good, Niko has been hounding me since sunrise this morning. Apparently, that woman of yours virtually killed our morning men from the tree line of the garden," he grimaces even though a smile still tugs at his lips as if he likes the idea of her being able to do such a thing."Virtually?" I ask."Paint gun, apparently. Red paint, too; she's quite something. Isn't she boss?"My jaw clamps, and my teeth grind; I don't appreciate how my men look at my soon-to-be wife."So let me get this straight?" I ask, leaning against the seat I've chosen in the back. "Emma shot all of the men on the morning rotation with a paint gun, a
Continued: She shakes her head slowly, her brain obviously refuting my proposal, yet she doesn't voice her reluctance, which means a part of her, no matter how small, wants me back, and I can work with that. Expand on it. "It's our wedding night—evening. I want you, Bee. I've wanted you all week." "No—," she squeaks. "What did I tell you about that word?" I ask gruffly. I drop her foot, placing it down on the floor. And I follow it, kneeling at her feet like a man possessed. "It's a dirty word," I grin. "One punishable by denial." "And what did I tell you?" She asks. "I'm your husband, Bee. I have needs. Needs that you haven't met." "They're not my responsibility..." she whines, yet there's playfulness in her eyes that I suddenly want to play against. "So when you want to get off, is your need not my responsibility?" I counter her. "No." "You sure about that? You sure you don't want me to help you along?" I ask, skating my fingers up the inside her thighs that are spread in
Niko Bianca sits across from me as we taxi down the runway to take off for this impromptu honeymoon I hadn't expected to take. She looks worn and tired, yet she lounges back in her wedding dress so unladylike that I can't imagine doing anything but spend this time looking and appreciating the vision before me. She's comfortable even if she should be anxious and wary. I was swept up in my own emotions, so I brooded opposite her, remaining stoic and quiet as I assessed Bianca in her calm state. She is beautiful and breathtaking. I'm honoured to have stood up there beside her, making vows to remain beside her for the rest of our lives. I hadn't expected to feel so overwhelmingly possessive of her, and I hadn't expected to lose my shit the moment Franko goaded me to get that exact reaction. She didn't want to marry, andthat much is evident, but does shetrulydislike being with me? And does she want to be with a man like Franko, who obviously favours his father's tendency to treat wome
Continued: I press my thighs together at the sudden intrusive thoughts of needing Niko. "Keep staring at me like that, and we won't get as far as the bonnet of this fucking car," he tells me. A small smile now plays on his lips. Is he playing with me just for kicks? "I wasn't staring. I was listing out the things I hate about you," I lie, turning to stare at the plane waiting for us to board it. Now, a smile plays at my lips—a large smile because I know he knows I'm bluffing. "Is that so?" He questions humorously. He shifts beside me, but I avoid looking his way to see what he's doing. "Yup. Just tallying up the things I despise about my now husband so I can memorise each and every one." "You're something else, Bee." "Never claimed to be perfect like Emma," I shrug nonchalantly. "I wouldn't want you to be anything but yourself. They're ready. Come on?" He requests. Turning, I note he's outside of the car, holding his hand out for me that I take, unwillingly, of course
Bianca Niko is unsettled, his leg bouncing beside mine as he stared upfront while one of Luca's men drove us out of Dimitri's drive. The irony is upon me that I came here a Rossi, and I'm leaving a Costa. It's nerve-wracking and upsetting. It's also exciting and sordid. Niko's warning that my use of the word 'no' plays in my mind. I wonder what would have happened if we had been alone five to ten minutes more. There's so much that remained unsaid in those moments before we were interrupted. There's so much Niko could have done. For a moment, he scared me. It seems my virginity might have been a buffer between Niko wanting and taking what he wanted. Would he really have fucked me here in the back seat of the car? The driveway gives way to the forest surrounding the roads between Dimitri's and Luca's, and I find myself lost in the sea of green and brown foliage that mesmerises me. I'm a married woman now, and the thought is strange and foreign. As I process this in my
Continued: "How about fuck off?" Niko spits angrily before turning us away and walking us to Dimitri. "We're out of here," he spits so lowly that his voice reverberates through my bones. "You should sort that out before I do." "Your wedding is not over," Dimitri warns quietly and calmly. "It's done when I say it's done. We've married, you have what you want. I won't stay here and allow him to verbally abuse my wife before all these people," Niko states, taking my hand and lacing our fingers together before he turns us away. Everyone parted, making room for us to leave. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, knowing everyone had heard exactly what Franko said. It's obvious he's planted seedlings of doubt within the minds of every guest here. "Niko," I whimper, anxious to be gone already. Needing to find the protection only he seems to give me. "It's okay," he mumbles quietly, obviously trying to reassure me as I stumble to keep up with his quick steps. He leads me outside
Continued: His smile drops, and his hold on my hand tightens. He dives to his left to greet an old couple against the wall, who look very bored to be here and not interested in greeting us like the many other people are. I looked back at where we came from, noticing why he had chosen to head this way. Turning back, I talked to the old couple more animatedly than the rest of the people we spoke to. They are an old family, one that doesn't partake in criminal activities anymore and hasn't for a while. But they still hold the respect of all the families. Niko's arm finds itself around my shoulders in a gesture that screams intimacy, but honestly, I'm sure it's because he can feel the same sets of eyes on us that I can. Choosing to play his game, I reach up and lace my fingers in his, kissing his thumb, too, as he strokes my lips. It's almost as if my decision to do such a thing endangered my life, for I can feel Franko and his father shooting daggers at my back. The red-hot sensatio
BiancaNiko holds onto me for dear life as we wander along the dimly lit hall and through the doors that lead us into a multitude of people gathered within the large hall, ready to greet us. I had presumed that this little ceremony would have been over as soon as I said I do, but I'm being treated more than the second daughter married off just because I can be. Faces blend into faces as he guides me to talk to the first set of people to our right. I note Dimitri upset in the corner, obviously disliking that we escaped almost as soon as his priest said we finished the ceremony. Yet the funny thing is we signed off on the dotted line last night, and I have no doubt those papers were fast-tracked to ensure our matrimony was official. Don Hendrix congratulates us with a warm smile, and his wife tells me how beautiful I am in this dress, which itches every part of my skin it is touching. Nothing really sinks in besides the blood swooshing in my ears because of my racing heart at the numb
Continued:Nodding, I frowned slightly at her words, sounding as unloved as any woman being forced to marry. She meets my gaze, and the flash of a camera goes off around us. "I now pronounce you husband and wife; you may kiss the bride." I'm ready to thump the man beside us, fed up with this fakery and idiocy. But Bianca surprises me, stepping forward to press her lips to mine. Her fingers play with the lapels of my jacket, and eventually, she turns the kiss into a hug before she whispers in my ear. "How much did you waste on this fake wedding?" "The rings?" I question back. "Please tell me they're fake." "If fake stones cost millions," I grin with amusement, stepping back and holding my hand out for her to take. Her eyes portray shock and horror as I turn us towards everything before us, the resounding sound of clapping hands making me grimace. Yet, I have to plaster happiness on my face because the photographer is snapping pictures quicker than I'd like. As practised, I walk
Niko I can't help but study this version of Bianca as the man of the church stands in front of us, speaking nonsense. Not a word goes in because I'm not listening, not deeply enough to take in any of his chanting at face value. She stands beside me, unsure of herself yet more beautiful than I've ever seen her. Her makeup is barely there, just eyeliner and mascara drawing my attention to her eyes' deep, earthy hues. Her cheeks seem somewhat higher than usual, and her lips are pale pink, which complements the only evidence of a blush on the tip of her nose. The man before us drones on, and I grit my teeth, not caring to listen, as I watch Bianca breathe. Her chest rises and falls in rapid breaths, all while she looks at him unwaveringly. Until she doesn't, until her eyes swing to me, her face staying in the position of looking forward. In that brief moment, I see longing—the longing to escape, the need to be gone from here. I wish I could speed this up in an instant. Neither of