Chapter One
Gia
Don’t panic, don’ t panic, don’t panic,I told myself as I attempted to tap in my dad’s number on the screen of my phone. But even if my hands weren’t slick with blood, my vision was too blurred with tears to be able to see what I was doing.
The phone slipped from my grip, clattering to the floor. “Fuck!” I cursed as I wiped my hands on my blood-splattered wedding dress before using the back of my hand to wipe the tears from my eyes.
Then, I took a deep breath and picked up my phone. I may have been a spoiled brat, but my father didn’t raise me to be a bitch.
My hands still trembled slightly, but I was finally able to call my dad. He answered on the third ring, “Piccola,is everything okay? You shouldn’t be calling me during your wedding night.”
The term of endearment he had used since I was a little girl made my heart ache. “Daddy,” my voice cracked, a sob escapingme from the overwhelming multitude of emotions swarming through me. “Something happened.”
The line was silent for several seconds, making my anxiety tick higher and higher with each passing moment that he didn’t respond. “Daddy?”
“I’m on my way. Don’t touch anything and don’t talk to anyone else. You understand?”
I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Yes.”
“Good. I’ll be there in ten.”
A small trickle of relief flowed through me, and my shoulders dropped as I let out a sigh. “Okay.”
As promised, my dad arrived within ten minutes. He had two of his bodyguards with him as I opened the door to the penthouse suite he’d booked for my wedding night.
His eyes widened as they ran me up and down, and concern and anger etched his forehead. “What happened?” he questioned as he rushed inside. He signaled for his men to close the door.
I tried to be strong, but I couldn’t help but cry as the events of the night replayed in my mind. I’d been holding all the emotion in as I tried to process everything, but now that my father was in front of me, vulnerability took over and I broke down. “He … I … I wasn’t ready, and Luca … he tried to force himself on me,” I stammered, tears rolling down my cheeks. “I know he was my husband, but I barely knew him and I wasn’t ready yet.”
My words were rushed, my tone flustered as I explained what happened, my eyes locked on my father’s, silently pleading for him to understand. “I just wanted him to get off me and my knife was in my garter, and-”
Arching a brow, my dad cut me off, “Your knife was in your garter? On your wedding day?”
I nodded. Given my father’s status as one of the head mob bosses in New York, we had to take certain precautions. Afterseveral attempted kidnappings and threats on my life, I kept one of his knives with me at all times.
Even on my wedding day.
A small smirk quirked the corner of his lips for a second before his face became an unreadable mask again. “Did he hurt you?”
The scene replayed in my mind and I squeezed my eyes shut. My tongue ran over the split at the corner of my lip as I reopened my eyes. “Nothing severe.”
My dad nodded. “Is he dead?”
A lump formed in my throat. I didn’t even want to consider that. “I don’t know. Once I got him off me, I ran into the other room and called you.”
He snapped his fingers, and one of his men began searching the suite. My brows furrowed. “I can show you where he is.”
My father shook his head, waving me away. “No. Don’t you worry about him.” He opened his arms and stepped towards me, inviting me into his embrace.
I easily fell into my dad’s arms and let everything out, sobbing into his chest. Holding me tight, he whispered words of comfort as he rubbed my back. His familiar cologne helped calm me down, my choking sobs becoming small sniffles after a few minutes.
After the shock wore off, the severity of what I’d done sunk in. “Oh my God, Dad, I’m so sorry.” Panic began to rise again, making my chest tight. “I’ve ruined everything. The Sorellos are going to retaliate and—”
My father shushed me, placing his finger to my lips. “Don’t worry about that,Piccola, I’ll take care of it.” He kissed my forehead, then led me toward the bathroom. “Why don’t you get cleaned up and we’ll talk more after?”
I looked down at my ripped and bloodied wedding dress. I couldn’t even imagine what my face and hair looked like, but I could feel the dried blood caking my neck and cheeks. “Okay.”
My father smiled, kissing my forehead again. “Okay.”
