PROLOGUE
SERENA – CHICAGO
“Yes, whore. Just like that.” Alfredo grunts as he slams his vile cock inside the busty blonde. The woman is bent over a table in the unoccupied small ballroom of the hotel where my father is hosting my mother’s annual charity gala. For a second, I think it’s my sister Saskia—until she angles her head and I see her features more clearly. I have never seen her before, and I’m pretty sure she isn’t attending the gala. Which means my husband arranged for her to meet him here.
Pivoting his hips, he continues thrusting into her as he holds her body down on the table with a firm hand. She moans and writhes underneath him, and she’s either a fantastic actress or he actually manages to make it good for her.
I wouldn’t know.
Because sex with Alfredo is a torturous chore and never pleasurable for me.
I feel nothing as I watch my husband fuck another woman. He doesn’t know I’m here because the door is only open a fraction, which is enough for me to see what’s going down. He wouldn’t care if he did notice me. There have been occasions when he’s tied me to a chair and forced me to watch him screw other women.
When he disappeared from our table in the main ballroom, I knew he had either left to attend to Outfit business or to get up to no good with one of his many whores. Considering the rest of the dons were still in the room, I figured it was the latter, and my suspicions were confirmed when I discovered him having sex with a woman young enough to be his daughter.
Alfredo Gifoli disgusts me more and more with every passing day, and if it wasn’t for my children, I would have checked out of this life a long time ago.
Elisa and Romeo give me the strength to go on because I would never leave my kids with that bastard who fathered them. So, I put up with his abusive treatment and do what I can to shield my children from the truth of who their papa is.
Quietly, I close the door, drawing a deep breath as I head toward the bathroom to compose myself. Sierra would take one look at my face and know something is wrong. My younger sister has been noticing the bruises lately, and she hasn’t hidden her disdain for my husband.
I can’t drag her into this because I’m fearful what Alfredo would do if he even suspected Sierra knew the truth of our marriage. It’s not like we could rely on our father to protect us. He was the monster who sold me to his best friend in an arranged marriage when I was twenty-three and Alfredo was forty-nine.
Alfredo’s cruel treatment began the night of our wedding, and at first, I refused to believe my father knew this was the kind of man he had entrusted me to.
I’m no longer so naïve.
My father knew. He knew how much of a bastard Alfredo is. And he still gave me to him, knowing what he would do.
I hate Joseph Lawson as much as I hate Alfredo Gifoli.
I hope, when their time comes, they both rot in hell.
Rounding the corner, I slam into a solid wall of muscle, and I lose my balance. Teetering on my high stilettos, I drop my purse, and my arms flail about as I struggle to remain upright.
“Woah,” a man with a familiar deep voice says as his arms wrap around my back, halting my fall.
Lifting my head, I suck in a gasp as I stare into Alesso’s warm chocolaty-brown eyes. Concern is etched upon his face as he stares at me. “Sorry about that. Are you okay?” Keeping ahold of me, he bends down and swipes my purse off the floor, setting the strap back on my shoulder.
“I’m fine,” I rasp, and it’s no lie. My skin is on fire where his large, warm palm resides on my lower back, and I feel his touch even through the material of my dress. I’m suddenly conscious of how closely we are pressed together, and intense need infiltrates my body, causing a delicious coiling sensation to swirl in my tummy and a throbbing ache to take up residence in my panties. A flush blossoms in my chest, creeping up my neck and on to my cheeks as we stare at one another, neither of us making a move to separate. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. It’s my fault,” I say, drowning in the decadent depths of his stunning eyes.
Alessandro is gorgeous. He’s tall, broad, and muscular with dark-brown hair and matching eyes, a strong Roman nose, olive skin, and a stylish layer of stubble on his chin and cheeks. I have felt an attraction simmering between us from the moment I met him—when Sierra introduced him as her new bodyguard. He’s her date tonight, so I should not be entertaining the thoughts I’m entertaining right now. Except I know my sister isn’t interested in him like that. She has told me explicitly, and I know she only brought him tonight to avoid our father finding her a date.
Visions of Alfredo fucking that woman resurrect in my mind, and instead of my usual numbness, I’m angry. Fuck him. Why does he get to cheat on me and I’m expected to be the dutiful, loyal mafia wife who turns a blind eye to his cruelty and his constant whoring? I have never taken anything for myself, and right now, I want to kiss this man. Perhaps it’s the champagne sluicing through my veins, or a sudden reckless urge to throw caution to the wind, but I am braver than I ever thought myself possible.
Without stopping to think about it a second longer, I slide my hands up Alesso’s impressive chest and tip my head up as I slant my mouth over his. My hands land on his shoulders as I kiss him, and a delicious tremor ghosts over my skin at the feel of his lush mouth underneath mine.
He responds immediately, kissing me back without hesitation as he simultaneously moves us over behind the pillar, hiding us from view. The hand on my back presses me into his body, and his other hand clasps the nape of my neck, tilting my head to the side so he can deepen the kiss.
I fall into him, melting against his body and his warm lips. Readily opening my mouth so his tongue can slip inside. We groan as our tongues perform a sensual dance while our kissing grows more frantic.
I am on fire.
Every single nerve ending and cell in my body has awoken as if I’ve been sleeping my way through life up to this point. Hormones are going crazy inside me as my body responds to his touch in a way it hasn’t responded to any touch before. Sliding one hand down from his shoulders, I explore the hard muscles of his back through his shirt. My fingers sweep lower until I’m grabbing his ass and thrusting him against me, needing him to quench this intoxicating lust taking control of my body.
I’m aching down below. My pussy is pulsing and throbbing with potent need.
Lifting one leg, I wrap it around his outer thigh, grinding against his erection and wishing I wasn’t wearing this heavily layered designer gown so I could feel his hardness pressing against me.
