Zandra Russo POV St. Augustine Cemetery. All things considered, it’s a really lovely spot, with lots of trees, plenty of flowers, and clear blue skies above. The gravestones are lined in neat rows and columns, some decorated with bouquets and candles, while others lie empty and forgotten. A small building sits in the far corner of the cemetery—likely the groundskeeper’s office. “Ma’am?” Vincent calls, subtly clearing his throat. “May I ask what we’re doing here?” “Just… paying my respects to someone,” I reply. “Can you wait by the car? I shouldn’t be too long.”“I don’t know if it’s a good idea to leave your side, Ms. Russo.” As inconvenient as Vincent tagging along would be, I can’t exactly fault him for his diligence. Tensions are running high on all fronts. I doubt he’s willing to ever let me out of his sight.“Alright,” I say. “Tell the rest of the men to stay with the car.” “How long do you think we’ll be here, ma’am?” “A couple of minutes. Not too long, don’t worry.” I pull
Zandra Russo POV I pace back and forth in my room, chewing on my nails as the sun goes down beyond the horizon. It’s getting dark. The house is still, everyone having retired to their rooms after dinner. It’s been getting difficult, keeping this massive secret from my family. Aside from Alessandra, of course, she’s the other half of my soul, so it was really only a matter of time before she learned about Thorton. I just wish the way she found out had been different. I scroll through my phone, waiting for an update I’m not sure will come. It could take Thorton a while longer to find Rossi, but my impatience is really starting to get the better of me. The detective has proven to be a slippery son of a bitch. He’s gotten the better of us once before, which is why I can’t stop worrying about Thorton. What if Thor is walking straight into a trap? I should be there to help him—I just don’t know how without alerting the rest of the Mafia or my family.After another ten minutes of stalling,
Thorton Gallardo POV “Everyone knows what they’re doing?” I ask my brothers as we approach the lone house on the very edge of the city. On the outside, it looks abandoned—probably by design. Leo grabs his rifle from the trunk with a grunt. “We should have taken him out before he became a problem. A cop sniffing around is never a good sign.”Roman chuckles, clapping him on the shoulder. “No sense in whining about it now. Let’s just get the job done.”Samuel cracks his knuckles, as well as his neck, the pop of all his joints like a sudden bubble wrap explosion. “I don’t get why you want us to bring him in alive. Do you really want to make peace with the Russo Family that bad? We’ve taken more land from those bastards in the past two weeks than anyone could have predicted. Why stop now?”“You know as well as I do we’re running out of manpower,” I grumble under my breath. “We’re being spread too thin. Knowing your limits is nothing to be ashamed of.”I catch Damien giving me the side eye
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
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 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
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
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
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