Chapter 1: Liana
I have forty days to make Santino Marcello hate me.
Shouldn't be that hard. I've done it to better men.
"Stop fidgeting." My younger sister, Gia, slaps my hand away from the hem of my dress. "You look perfect."
"I don't want to look perfect." I turn from the mirror, studying my reflection with a critical eye. The black dress hugs every curve, sophisticated and elegant. Exactly what a mafia princess should wear to meet her future husband. "I want to look forgettable."
"Too late for that." My sister perches on the edge of my bed, watching me with those knowing dark eyes we inherited from our mother. "Papa already sent him your photo. He knows what you look like."
The photo where I'm smiling like I'm thrilled about this arrangement instead of plotting its destruction.
I resume pacing my bedroom. Through the window, I can see the Costa family estate sprawling below. Manicured gardens, high walls, armed guards at every entrance.
My kingdom. My legacy to take over when Papa steps down.
At least, it was supposed to be.
"This is insane," I mutter, staring out at the estate. "We're living in the twenty-first century and I'm being married off like property."
"Welcome to mafia tradition." Gia's voice is dry. "Where the man gets to decide everything and the woman gets to smile and look pretty."
"Papa trained me for all this." I gesture toward the estate below. "Meetings since I was ten. Strategy, negotiation, how to read a balance sheet. I'm ready to run our operations, and instead he's handing it all to a stranger. What was the point in training me if I have to give it all up?"
“Papa is getting old and you know his health isn’t as good as it used to be,” Gia says. “He’s trying to look out for us if something happens to him. Besides its tradition. There’s no point in fighting it.”
"Screw the Forty Days Tradition!" I spit out the words. "Forty days together, then Santino decides if we marry. Not me. Him. I don't even get a vote in my own life. Can you believe the marriage contract is already drafted? As soon as he says yes, we get married and then every Costa asset, business, and holding transfers to Santino’s name for ‘continuity of leadership’ when something happens to Papa. Everything that belongs to us gets put into his name because he’s a man. Not mine, not yours."
"Can’t you just refuse to marry him?"
"I wish. That's not how this works." My hands curl into fists. "He's the only one who can end this arrangement voluntarily. Which means I need to make him want to."
Gia's eyes light up with understanding. "You're going to drive him away."
"That’s the plan. I'm going to be the most exhausting, infuriating, insane fiancée he's ever met." A slow smile spreads across my face. "I'm going to make his life so chaotic, so unbearable, that walking away is his only option."
"That's risky. If Papa finds out what you're doing..."
"Papa won't find out. Because I'm going to look like I'm trying really hard." I meet her eyes. "I'll just be spectacularly bad at it."
"You really think you can pull this off?"
"I don’t have a choice. Our future depends on it." I grab my clutch. "The alternative is losing our birthright and everything I've worked for."
My father, Dominic Costa, is a powerful Don. He raised me to understand the business, to sit in on meetings, to learn strategy. He taught me everything I need to know to run this family.
And then he arranged for me to marry it all away.
Because tradition says a woman can't be in charge. Tradition says I'm just here to transfer power from my father to whatever man he chooses.
"Forty days," I say quietly. "That's all I have."
“At least you have that much time to ensure compatibility instead of marrying you off to a complete stranger. What’s the worse that can happen if he decides not to marry you?” Gia asks.
"The arrangement is dissolved, and our family is dishonored,” I say. "Papa will be furious, of course. The Marcellos will be insulted. It could damage the alliance, but at least we keep what is ours. And it’s better than spending the rest of my life as decoration while some man runs the empire I was born to lead.”
I was ten when I first sat in on a business meeting. Sixteen when Papa started teaching me about our operations. Twenty-one when he told me I was ready to take on real responsibility. And now, at twenty-eight, I'm supposed to hand it all to Santino Marcello.
