Except I’m not drunk.I’m compromised.And I just helped him do it.
“Let’s get you away from here.”
“Yes.”
“We’ll walk toward the exit.”He dips his head, lips near my ear, his breath hot against my skin.“Easy, princess.”
That name.That tone.
The word princess sounds different now.It’s not a gentle tease.He knows I’m a Mafia princess.And his tone is a fierce claim.Does he have any idea how much trouble he’s bought himself?
Panic surges, huge and useless, slamming into the drug dragging me under.
The rooftop tilts again as his hand directs my steps.
My body is obedient, as if we’ve done this a hundred times.
People part for us without really seeing, the music and laughter smearing into one long, distant sound.
I want to dig my heels in.I want to claw my way out of my own skin.Instead, I let him steer me toward the stairwell door, my head tipping briefly against his shoulder as if I chose it.
Who are you?
I feel suddenly, terrifyingly small as my body keeps moving, as the world turns to molasses and the stranger holds me perfectly, impossibly steady.
And what the hell are you planning to do to me?
ChapterOne
Dante
Houston, Texas
“Have you lost your fucking mind?”
My oldest brother, Matteo, stands behind our father’s old desk, shoulders squared, sleeves rolled to his forearms, tie loosened just enough to signal he’s past civility.The lamplight cuts sharp angles down his face.
He’s our family’s don now.And he’s compelled my presence.In fact, to ensure I knew how serious he was, he sent several of his men to my house.
Nico, my cousin and the Moretti family’s consigliere, stands off to the side, one hand resting on the bar cart, posture relaxed in a way that fools absolutely no one.His gaze tracks me with quiet, razor-edged calculation.Clearly he’s already working on the massive issue I created.
I close the door behind me and take a couple of steps into the familiar study.
The air smells of aged leather and faint cigar smoke, a remnant of Father’s era.
As always, I take note of Don Raffaele Moretti’s portrait.It hadn’t been there when he was alive, but Matteo had it commissioned right after the funeral.
So none of us forget our legacy, our responsibilities.
The distance I leave between us is deliberate.I’m near enough that they know I’m not backing down and far enough to make my own point.I’m the family’s underboss and not a subordinate.
I had reasons for what I did.And they all involve protecting our turf and the Moretti family.
“I asked you a question, Dante.”
I could lie.I don’t.
Instead, deadly calm, I meet his gaze.“I know exactly what I’m doing.”
