PROLOGUE
LUCA: CHRISTMAS DAY
I hate Christmas.
No, that’s not right. I don’t mind the gifts.
What I hate is coming home for Christmas.
More specifically, I hate having to endure Elena Vitale’s disdain for me.
Fucking hell, I loved her.
I was ready to give her everything.
But it turned out that she didn’t love me.
Not really.
Not if she could believe that I’d betray her by putting her father in prison.
That I had anything to do with his being killed not long after he was incarcerated.
Her lack of love for me was further proven when just weeks after I left the United States and moved to Italy to run the family business there, she got pregnant.
Apparently, by some asshole who didn’t care enough to do the right thing by her as she’s a single mom of triplets.
I’d have given her the world, and she chose some dumbass who left her with three kids.
Her accusations should have killed my feelings for her. Moving to Italy should have healed my heart.
The number of women I’ve fucked since then should have gotten her out of my system.
But whenever I return home for the annual La Corona Christmas party, there she is looking at me like I’m a piece of shit, and somehow, my heart breaks all over again.
I remind myself that I’m a badass Mafia prince. I don’t need love. I don’t need Elena.
I push thoughts of her out of my head as I make my way up the steps of my father’s home.
Over the last year, I’ve been getting calls from my sister, Gabriella, that my father’s mind is going.
I think she’s overreacting.
He’s fine whenever I talk to him on the phone. Sure, he’s on occasion called me Marco, Dom Calabresi’s name, but I figure that’s like any parent who mixes their kids up.
Marco isn’t my father’s son, but my father treats him like a son.
I walk into the house I grew up in, and immediately, I’m greeted by welcoming staff and friends.
"Luca!" Gabriella calls out when she sees me.
“Sorella mia,” I say, equally as happy to see her. We’re close, and although I’m older, if she were a boy, my father might make her the next Don because she’s a shrewd woman.
She rushes to me, throwing her arms around me. "You’re here!"
"Of course." I laugh, hugging her back. "It's Christmas."
She’s exuding joy I’ve never seen in her before.
