Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 48585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 48585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 243(@200wpm)___ 194(@250wpm)___ 162(@300wpm)
“Get down,” he says as he reaches his arm out protectively and pushes me down in my seat to avoid the gunfire.
But Leonardo’s men aren’t fast enough to stop him as Luc races past the cathedral and drives away.
I look out the side mirror of the car and catch sight of Leonardo as he steps out of the church to watch the tail end of the chaos and the car that Luciano speeds away with me in. Even from a distance, and in the mirror's distortion, I can see the seething rage on Leonardo’s face. I only hope that he doesn’t take that rage out on my father in my absence.
CHAPTER 2
LUC
“Just don’t do anything stupid,” Vincent says, half-joking but also half-serious as he adjusts his tie while we walk toward the church.
The wedding between Leonardo Conti and Valentina Ricci will begin within the hour, and I can’t shake the sick feeling in my stomach over the whole thing.
“Leave him alone,” Isla says gently as she smiles up at her husband. “You’re the one who invited Luciano to come along with us to Italy for this wedding to begin with. Why invite him if you’re just going to torment him over being here?”
“I invited Luc as extra protection,” Vincent answers her matter of fact. “One can never be too sure with Leonardo; the man has the temper of a cat in a hot bath.”
Isla shoots me a sympathetic look, and I try to hide the fact that I am uncomfortable with this whole thing. It’s not a secret to my cousin that I’ve adored Valentina from afar, but Vincent doesn’t know that I snuck off to see her a couple of weeks ago. Discovering that would definitely not be well-received, because it would undermine the already tenuous relations between the two mafia families. Leonardo’s guards fear him too much to mention I visited his estate during his absence. Otherwise, he would have already come after me.
“What kind of stupid thing are you implying that I might do?” I respond to Vincent bitterly. “It’s not like I’m going to start a war between the families inside a church filled with armed mafia dons and their men.”
“Good,” Vincent chuckles as he takes Isla’s arm and walks inside to be seated. “Just checking.”
As soon as I follow them inside the church, my head fills with the memory of my night with Valentina—the soft, warm touch of her skin, the smell of her hair as it tangled around her shoulders while I thrust myself into her. And perhaps even greater than the physical pleasure of it all was the haunting, unhappy look in her eyes.
I take my seat next to Vincent and glance around the church. The Conti family fills a solid portion of the pews, along with other notable families and their higher-ups. We’re seated midway between the altar and the exit, in a respectable seating position, but one that clearly shows the Morettis aren’t high on the Conti family’s list of friends. I watch as Leonardo Conti appears at the front of the church to greet his guests. That man is such a pompous ass, even as far as mafia bosses go. He’s always calculating his next move to expand power and eliminate his rivals, but he hides his ability to manipulate and seduce beneath a fake charm and polished etiquette that conceals his darker intentions. His cold charisma doesn’t fool me one bit. He’s an entitled jackass who believes deeply in his inherent right to power, status, and control over others. I’ve heard he derives sadistic pleasure from controlling women. To me, that makes him weak.
When he walks over to greet Vincent, I stare directly at Leonardo’s calculating eyes. He, like the rest of us in the mafia, is always assessing for weakness in those around him. His expensive, perfectly tailored suits and lavish wedding ceremony might project wealth and power, but he’s merely compensating for profound, unredeemable moral failings.
“Thank you for coming,” Leonardo sneers as he shakes Vincent’s hand.
It never ceases to amaze me how these Dons dance around each other with formalities. If I were a Don, I would cut the crap. My strength would be my genuine disinterest in posturing around other men, especially with the likes of Leonardo Conti.
“Thank you for the invitation,” Vincent says with a cold, polite smile.
Even though they have had occasional dealings here and there, the two men are rivals, not friends. As is apparent from how Leonardo’s broad-shouldered and physically imposing build hovers over Vincent’s seated position. Vincent’s presence is just as intimidating as Leonardo’s is, but it would be rude of him to stand in the pew during Leonardo’s ceremony, so he remains seated and simply shakes the bastard’s hand instead.
Leonardo greets Isla, kissing the top of her hand when it’s offered to him, before looking at me. It amuses me how we’re almost the same age, yet Leonardo has a light streak of silver shooting through his impeccably groomed dark hair. Perhaps that means his days on this earth are fewer than he thinks. He doesn’t bother greeting me with more than a nod and a sarcastic remark, considering me a lesser rival and underestimating me because of my disciplined and inferior position as consigliere.