Page 1 of Vendetta

Chapter 1

Rosalina

Aprickle of cold sweat crawled down my spine.

This was a mistake. I should know better than to walk alone at night.

The feeling of being watched chafed against my skin as I made my way down the foggy sidewalk.

I glanced over my shoulder, but only the hollow eyes of streetlights glared through the chilly air. There wasn’t a soul to be found, but I could feel it—someone was watching me.

In the distance, the steady throb of music was like a siren, tempting me to return to the club that I had just left. I should go back and call a rideshare, but I was already halfway to the swanky apartment my father bought for me. I’d be home long before the driver even got here. Weighing the options, I picked up my pace. It wasn’t that much further.

I could make it.

The scuff of a shoe on concrete had me spinning around, my stilettos slipping on the wet asphalt. “Who’s there?” I called, doing my best to keep the tremor out of my voice.

No reply.

The sickly simmer of fear burned in my stomach.

Fuck.

Was I being paranoid? Probably.

But what if I wasn’t? What if the Morenos were coming to finish the job they’d started seven years ago? Goosebumps erupted along my arms, and the hair on the back of my neck sprang to attention. There’d been so much blood. So much death.

My heart hammered in my throat as I remembered that day, but I swallowed it down. The only sound was the click-clack of my spiked heels on the rain-slicked pavement. My hands trembled as I hurried, half running now, ducking between two tall buildings.

If I were quick, I’d be fine.

Just as I stepped into the alley, a shadow fell across my path. Before I even had a chance to run, someone dragged a coarse burlap sack over my head.

My instincts screamed to bolt, but my gut told me to fight. Adrenaline surged, scorching away that cold rush of panic, and my self-defense training kicked in. My arms swung around, catching a bristly jaw with my fist and a nose full of familiar pheromones. A flicker of anxiety ignited in my belly—alpha.

Goddammit. If I got out alive, some motherfucker was going to pay.

The memory of my father’s missed calls flashed through my mind. He’d been trying to warn me about something.

I should’ve listened.

But then, I smelled it. I recognized that scent, and my stomach dropped. I knew why they were here.

My attacker grunted at the impact of my swinging arms, but wasn’t deterred. These stupid shoes were terrible for brawling in the street, but better than being barefoot. Some asshole was out here wrecking my hair.

Good thing I was done for the night, because I wasn’t getting into another club looking like this. One of these days, making jokes while in emergency situations was going to be my downfall.

I stomped on the alpha’s skittering feet with little success, and then my hands were wrestled behind my back where a loop of slick plastic jerked tight over my wrists.

Fuck. My. Life.

Tired of the charade, I called out from inside the sack, hoping like hell that I was right about this. “Diego! I know it’s you. I can smell the cigars on your breath.” The stench of burlap overshadowed the familiar pheromones, but they were still there, lingering in the air. Even with the muted scent, I was reasonably sure of who was fighting me. “Let me go! We can talk about this.” A hint of petulant whine colored my words, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to go back. I wanted to stay at college, away from my father and his blood-soaked world. But right now, I was powerless to do anything about it, stumbling around blind.

“Not this time, princesa. Your papá wants you home.”

I wheezed out a defeated sigh, relieved it was who I thought and not someone worse, but still upset at what this meant for my prospects of finishing school. “Fine! Fine. Just let me loose. I’ll come quietly.”

Even I could hear the lie in that promise.