I knew even back then that something wasn’t right, but I had promised my old man that I’d find out who did it and possibly join the circus before plotting my revenge.
The aftermath was dark and somber as our power dimmed.
I said yes to Giorgio’s proposal and married his younger daughter. I became his partner, and he quickly let me know he was looking for a man to take over his empire.
No one in his family was qualified for that role––he said that––and I knew that, too.
I was aware of Bianca’s wicked ways, her insatiable appetite for men, her attraction to the wrong men, and Giorgio’s need to put his affairs in order.
I knew enough not to believe everything he’d said to me, but I pretended that I had.
It cost me nothing.
My plan had been made before I tossed the first fist of dirt onto my father’s coffin.
I needed to have patience, and my time would come.
The more time I spent in the Gallo family, the more I learned about Giorgio.
Everything that people said about him proved to be correct.He was a wise man and managed to control his empire through practical alliances, and I was only one of them.
It had little relevance to me. Knowing that someone had set me up was all that mattered.
And here I am, but possibly not for long.
Things have settled down.
I’m part of the family now.Bianca’s gone, and my obligations have boiled down to staying in the family and being loyal to them.
Honestly, our deal was up when Bianca passed.
And no, I had nothing to do with her death, although her death untied me from her family.
Giorgio must’ve never taken into account that his daughter might pass prematurely, despite her being addicted to living dangerously.
He also couldn’t foresee that Bianca’s daughter would turn into a wild card, become a headache, and also a big pain in my ass.
I couldn’t foresee that either, although something told me I might be in for a big surprise.
And there she is.
The girl from New York is now a wild woman with bronzed skin, lips softer than the juicy peaches of the south, eyes burninglike luminaries, and a way to draw a man’s gaze that should be outlawed.
It’s impossible not to notice Paxton’s arm sliding around her waist, his hand inching closer to the top of her rear.
It’s hard to ignore the tension in his touch, his fingers burning with fire––he’s that eager to feel her skin beneath his touch.
I like Paxton Maclean.
I consider him my friend––one of the few––but he needs to stay away from her unless he wants to lose his life over nothing.
She’s not nothing.
She’s Giorgio’s granddaughter.
And Giorgio isn’t trustworthy.
She needs to stay away from Paxton. From me. From anyone who has good judgment.
