Zandra Russo POV “Come on, Ms. Russo,” the guy says as he holds the spoon to my lips. “You have to eat something. Do you really want to starve to death?”I turn my face away with a huff. It’s been three days since I started my hunger strike. I trust these assholes as far as I can throw them. I know I’m a high-value hostage, so the chances that they’ve poisoned my food and water are slim, but I’d rather not take any risks. For all I know, they could have mixed everything up with a powerful sedative to keep me compliant. Like fucking hell. I glare at the man feeding me. There’s something strange about him. I’ve been observing them all very carefully the past few days, and I’ve noticed the other men don’t treat him with the same level of respect. They never include him in group huddles and never bother talking to him unless he speaks first. He’s an outcast, shunned for reasons I don’t yet know. But I’m going to find out.“What’s your name?” I ask hoarsely. The back of my throat is terri
Thor Gallardo POV For the love of all that is good and holy—what the hell am I doing? I never should have kissed her, let alone twice. More importantly, I shouldn’t have let Zandra Russo get under my skin. It must be her superpower or something, because the moment I was trapped in her blue-eyed gaze, I was no longer myself. Logic and common sense toppled straight out of my head and catapulted themselves out of the window. It can’t happen again. I’ve got too much on my plate right now and I simply can’t afford the distraction—no matter how gorgeous and delicious that distraction might be. My entire focus should be on building up the Gallardo, not on the taste of Zandra’s lips and the sound of her languid moan ringing in my ear. Fuck. I trudge up the stairs to the ground floor and march straight across the depot. Several mechanics tip their heads out of respect as I pass, but I pay them no mind. Right now, I’m too fucking steamed. I’m convinced Zandra Russo must be a witch. How else am
Zandra Valderrama POV I repeat his name in my head over and over again, almost like a meditative mantra. Now that I have a name to his face, he’s a lot less intimidating. Human, even because where the Boss was an idea, Thor Gallardo is a living, breathing man, which means he has weaknesses just like everyone else. Weaknesses I’m hoping to exploit.Too bad he hasn’t come to check on me in a while, instead sending one of his brothers to deliver my meals and keep an eye on me. Coward. I’ve officially lost track of days. Have I been here for a week? A month? It’s really too hard to say, but one thing’s for certain—I’m getting fucking anxious. I know Dad said he needed time to rally the troops and figure out a way to extract me, but what’s taking so long? I want to get out of here. I want to sleep in a fucking bed. You never really appreciate the little things until they’re gone. “What’s today’s date?” I ask Damien.He peeks up over the edge of his phone. “August seventh,” he answers afte
Thorton Gallardo POV “We’ve done it,” Leo informs me. “The entire southern district is ours.”I sit up, instantly alert. “Any resistance?” “No,” Roman says with a chuckle. “We had those Russo bitches running away with their tails between their legs.”“Excellent.” “Now what do we do, Boss?” Samuel asks, taking a seat in my office’s singular guest chair. He makes the thing look kiddie-size in contrast to his massive frame. I don’t even bother hiding my smirk as I pick up my phone. Everything’s going according to plan.“Now you leave the rest to me.” Going through the same process to contact Manfred Russo is much smoother this time than it was the last. I’m overflowing with confidence. I suspect news of our conquest has already reached the man. Now all that’s left to do is rub it in his face. He answers on the first tone and boy does he sound pissed. “Who do you think you are?” he seethes. “If I ever lay eyes on you—”“This is what’s going to happen,” I interject. “I now have two thi
Cassandra Russo POV If I ever see that son of a bitch again, I swear I’m going to shove my whole foot up his ass. This is the second time they’ve shoved me into the trunk of a car, and I can officially say it’s as bad an experience as the first time. I hate the feeling of being jostled, but I hate being manhandled even more. After what feels like an eternity inside the stuffy trunk, we come to a sudden stop. The screech of tires pierces through my skull, making me dizzier and more exasperated than I already am. I hear footsteps. Shouting. The trunk opens and someone pulls me out. I’m left standing on the ground, the cool air hitting my skin. The car drives away, the engine roaring angrily as someone lays on their horn. It’s all very chaotic and disorienting. Once I’m sure the coast is clear, I pull the hood off my head. The sudden contrast in light stings my eyes, but I don’t think I’ve ever been more pleased to feel the wind on my face. It takes me a couple of seconds to orient myse
Thor Gallardo POV I move quickly, setting up meetings left, right, and center with Italy’s most notorious criminals. Thieves, smugglers, money launderers—the list is endless. It’s no small secret that the Russo Mafia has had a tight grip on all illicit activity in the country for the last two decades, raking in the lion’s share of profits. But now that I’ve made a big enough splash, everything’s about to change. The Russo are not without enemies, though many have been driven deep underground, biding their time. It took a little organization on my part, but in my experience, it’s who you know and not what you know that can give you a greater edge.“Why have you called us here?” Hakim asks, soaking his large feet beneath the water. “I’ll have you know I’m a very busy man.” “As am I,” adds Rustom, a man I’m convinced is made of nothing but bone. I sit on the edge of the wooden riser, breathing in the steam of the bathhouse. I chose this location for a particular reason, the first being
Zandra Russo POV I’ve spent my whole life watching Dad at work, but I never realized how much paperwork was involved with running a mafia. Nothing’s actually physical—because why on Earth would we make the mistake of leaving behind a trail for cops to follow—but the administrative duties of a Mafia Boss are honestly mind-boggling. Treaties, funds transfers, general territory management… “My head hurts,” I grumble from behind Dad’s desk. He chuckles beside me, tapping the computer screen with a patient smile. “You’ll get used to it. It’ll come easier with time. You’ll be doing all this stuff with your eyes closed before you know it.” I push his keyboard away and give him a hard look. “Did you remember to take your medication today? Shouldn’t you be in bed? You need to rest and—”Dad pats me on the shoulder. “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart. Your mother’s giving me enough grief as it is.”“A heart attack,” I grumble, still in disbelief. Dad’s always been as fit as a bull. I think a p
Thorton Gallardo POV The Valentine Club isn’t my idea of a sparkling business venture, but it’s certainly the next step in my series of ever-growing plans. I don’t necessarily want to operate a club, but there’s no denying the revenue potential. I’m not even talking about the ridiculously marked-up liquor prices. I’m talking drugs. The clientele here is the perfect demographic to make a little extra on the side—it’s just a matter of making a deal with the club owner. He gets a cut of the profit, and in turn, he looks the other way—and he doesn’t have to report his earnings to the Russo Mafia since it’d all be under the table. It’s a win-win situation. He’d be stupid not to take it. “Let’s make this quick,” Samuel grumbles behind me. It’s not like him to be so jittery. If I had to venture a guess, it’s probably because he’s afraid we’ll get caught by the Russo.We are pushing our luck by being here, after all, but what’s the reward without a little risk?Leo leads the way. He’s in cha
Cassandra Russo Gallardo POV I never wanted a big wedding. Growing up, I wasn’t the type of girl who dreamed about flowing white dresses, enough flowers to open a florist shop, or exorbitantly expensive multi-tier cakes. I’m perfectly content with what I have—my family in attendance and my man standing proudly at the altar. We’re in a small chapel, tucked away in one of the quieter, more peaceful corners of the city. I’m dressed in the same wedding dress Mom wore when she married Dad, the very same veil on my head. There are no words to describe how honored I am to wear it. I hope one day, I get to pass it on to my own daughter to wear at her wedding, and perhaps even my granddaughter after her. Little things like these, full of sentiment and love, are how traditions are born. Dad and I stand just in front of the main entrance to the chapel. Everyone’s taken their seats, and the music is beginning to swell. I know he had his reservations when I first agreed to marry Thorton, but inst
Thorton Gallardo POV One Month Later Separately, the Russo and Gallardo Mafias are capable of incredible things. They both rule with iron fists and awe-inspiring efficiency. Where the Russo commands the respect of their peers, my brothers and I are tenaciously ambitious. Combined—we’re a force to be reckoned with. We’re only a month into our merger, but all of Italy works like a well-oiled machine. With the Russos’ connections and my transportation network, we’re virtually unstoppable. I don’t think the criminal underworld has ever seen a more impressive organization. With Leo running the numbers, Samuel enforcing our laws, Roman negotiating our deals, and Damien keeping his ear to the ground for any whispers of dissent, we have the entire city under our thumbs.But right now, the last thing I want to think about is work. Zandra, unfortunately, has other plans. “Remind me to ask Samuel to pay the Southern Administrative District a visit. A couple of businesses haven’t been paying ki
Zandra Russo POV I only have so much time. Before long, my baby bump will begin to show, and then the jig is up. I need to figure out how to break the news to Dad without sending him into full-on cardiac arrest. My decision is final, though, no matter what he or the rest of my family has to say. I’m keeping this baby, and I’m going to protect him or her with every fiber of my being. Do I think Dad might disown me when he learns the truth? Probably not. He’s always been a level-headed guy. I doubt he’d do anything so drastic… But that doesn’t stop me from coming up with a Plan B, C, and D—just in case. I’m just about to pull out my phone to look up some rudimentary information on what mothers should expect when I hear a strange sound coming from outside. The screech of car tires, angry shouting. My heart automatically leaps into my throat and lodges there. Oh, God. Are we under attack? All this excitement and paranoia can’t possibly be good for the baby. My little brother comes hobbli
Thorton Gallardo POV Half of Italy belongs to the Gallardo Mafia. I should be over the moon. I’m anything but. “We’re seeing staggering profits,” Leo tells me from the other side of my desk. One of his detailed spreadsheets is pulled up on his tablet.“We’ve had next to no resistance from the remaining Russo in the area. They’ve all but fled to the north of the city. The raid left them scrambled, but I don’t think now is the time to keep pushing. There’s still a heavy police presence in the area.” “Sure,” I mumble. I’m only half listening, partially because I know Leo’s got everything under control, and partially because I can’t bring myself to care. It’s almost cruel how we have everything we want, yet I have nothing I need. “The taxi business practically runs itself at this point,” Leo goes on. “Since Detective Rossi, uh, passed, there’s been no reason for the police to keep sniffing around. He was the only one who could link us to our criminal interests, and it doesn’t look like
Zandra Russo POV I’m bedridden for what feels like an eternity. Aunt Natalya keeps telling me it’s frankly a miracle I survived. Very few can take a bullet through the chest and live to tell the tale. It’s nothing short of divine intervention. But even if I did have the energy to get out of bed, I wouldn’t. A heavy fog clouds my mind, and it has nothing to do with the pain meds I’m on. I can’t stop thinking about Thorton. I can barely even think of his name without pins and needles stinging my eyes. No matter what I do, no matter how much time has passed, I can’t bring myself to accept he’s dead. The lives we lead are dangerous ones. Death and injury is an accepted workplace hazard. I just didn’t think it would actually happen.“Come on, Zandy,” Alessandra whispers at my bedside. There’s a bowl of chicken noodle soup on her lap. It’s all I’ve been able to stomach lately. Everything else makes me feel barfy. “You should eat something,” Mom adds softly. She’s seated on the other side o
Thorton Gallardo POV If obsession is a disease, then I’m sick and suffering. My waking thoughts bounce back and forth between Zandra and Rossi, trapping me in a never-ending cycle of cause and effect. I can’t stop thinking about her, about how cold and small she was in my arms as the lights faded from her eyes. My chest tightens at the realization that I’ll never get to kiss her again or speak to her again. Rossi has to pay—he has to. Tracking the man down this time is a whole lot easier. He’s paraded around like a damn war hero, showing up for interviews and public award ceremonies. I lie in wait, watching from the back of the crowd, dressed in an unassuming pair of jeans, a black sweatshirt, and a baseball cap. The hood’s drawn over to obscure my face. A whole line of TV cameras is here, along with nosy reporters and a handful of uniformed cops. I can’t just approach him. I may want vengeance, but I’m not suicidal. This place is too public, too many witnesses. I need to bide my tim
Thorton Gallardo POV Pulling up to the Russo’s private residence is practically begging for immediate execution, but I have no other options. I need to see Zandra, need to know she’s okay—even if it kills me. The place is swarming with armed guards, all of them training their weapons on us as the car screeches to a halt in front of the house.The moment I jump out, at least four of them barrel toward me. I came fully prepared for the beating of my life, but what happens next is so much worse.“Stand down!” Manfred Russo shouts at his men. They do so, snapping to attention as he trudges down the front path, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles are white. I see so much of Zandra in him. And that’s why I don’t react when he winds back and punches me in the jaw. I stumble to the ground, my ear ringing and my face throbbing. I deserved it. I deserve all of it. I will accept it. I see no point in fighting back. Even if I wanted to, Manfred Russo is almost three times my age. There’s no
Zandra Russo POV I awake with a start. There’s a blinding, throbbing pain in my chest, just below my left shoulder. I can’t make sense of my surroundings. Everything’s too loud, too bright. Confusion makes the room spin and fear makes my blood run cold. What just happened? How did I get here?“Easy, Zandy,” Aunt Natalya says as she hooks me up to a blood bag. O-positive, according to the sticker slapped on the front. “It was a high caliber round, so the bullet went right through you. You lost a lot of blood, but you’re lucky it missed all your important organs. Four inches lower and it would have pierced your heart.” Aunt Natalya is speaking perfectly clearly, but I don’t understand a word coming out of her mouth. Is it because of the shock? The pain? Probably both. I groan.“What happened?” “Relax, sweetheart,” Dad says. He’s at my bedside, his brows steepled together in grave concern. My uncles are here. So are Mom Amara, Alessandra, and Jovito. It’s a miracle my room is big enoug
Thorton Gallardo POV I don’t need to be an expert in reading body language to know tensions are running high. This is a public meeting—as is the tradition—hosted in a restaurant that’s been completely booked out. The lighting is dim. Armed men are everywhere. They don’t just belong to the Russo, but to the other families I’ve managed to piss off, as well. Why couldn’t we have done this in the back of some dingy room? Because this is a show of good faith, of honor, an unspoken code of conduct. There is nowhere to hide here, no secrets to be kept…which is exactly how I know everyone in this room hates my guts and they’re itching to reach for their guns and show it. Zandra—gorgeous, beautiful, fierce Zandra—sits at the head of the table. Her father and her uncles stand behind her like silent stone sentries. Around the table, the other Mafia heads sit. Some faces are familiar. Others are not. They all have one thing in common, though, and it’s the way they all stare daggers at me and my