"Is it bad right now? At the estate?"
I laugh softly, because what else can I do. "It's Vito. It's always bad."
"He's still got everyone locked down?"
"Not everyone. Rina went to Milan with him last week. Sofia's been moved again. She hates it out there — says the Hamptons house feels like a mausoleum with too many guards."I shake my head against his chest. "Vito won't even let Mamma visit her without three cars of security."
Finn's fingers still for half a second on my shoulder, then resume their slow circle. "That bad, huh," he murmurs.
"That bad." I yawn, my eyes already getting heavy. "I don't want to go back there. Not tonight. Not ever."
"Then don't." He tilts my chin up to kiss me, slow and soft, and whatever half-thought was forming at the edge of my mind slips away. "Stay. Just for tonight."
I close my eyes against his mouth. I can't remain caged by my family. I need freedom, I want it — and Finn is going to be my ticket to it.
CHAPTER 1
Gianna
My family wasunlike any other. I learned that as I grew older.
Other families are built on love and care. Mine is governed by code and conduct. And I have broken the most important rule of all.
I just didn’t know it yet when I walked back through the side entrance of the estate at four in the morning, smelling like Finn, my hair a mess from his hands. I didn’t know it when I slipped into bed and stared at the ceiling for an hour, thinking about the shape of his mouth and what it felt like to be wanted. I didn’t know it when I finally slept.
I know it the second I walk into the kitchen at nine.
Vito is standing at the island with a manila envelope in front of him. Rafa is beside him, arms crossed. Marco is on the phone by the window, voice low. No one is eating. No one looks up when I come in.
"Sit down, Gianna," Vito says.
His voice is calm. That's how I know it's bad.
I sit.
He slides the envelope across the marble. I don't want to open it. I already know.
"Open it," he says.
The first photograph is me, walking into Willow Grace Chapel. My hood is up, but you can see my face in profile as I turn to pull the door. The second is me leaving, hours later, my hair down and my hoodie zipper half broken. The third is Finn, in the doorway behind me, shirtless, watching me go.
There's a folded note beneath the photos. The handwriting is neat, almost delicate. I read it twice before the words make sense.
Thought you should see what your little sister does on her nights off. — Regards, The Irish
"Vito." My voice comes out steady, which surprises me. "I can explain."
"Can you?"
"It's not what it?—"
"Don't." He doesn't raise his voice. He doesn't need to. "Don't insult me. Just tell me what you told him."
"Nothing. I didn't tell him anything. I would never?—"
"Gianna." Rafa's voice is softer than Vito's, but only barely. "Think. What did you talk about."
"We didn't talk about the family. We didn't. I wouldn't?—"
