“But not this time. You told me to take Matteo’s offer, and I didn’t.”

  “Because you don’t want to be a pawn.”

  “Because of you!”

  He stills, and for long moments, neither of us says anything. The silence is interrupted only by our angry, rapid breaths. Warm air blows over my lips on every exhale, and my heart thrums in my chest. I need to get close to him. I need him to want me again, but this is more than that. These feelings are real. It’s like my heart refuses to listen to what my mind knows; that Sasha killed Daddy. My heart is deaf and blind to the truth, besieged by frail emotions. I still love him, and I don’t know how that’s possible.

  His jaw tics before he speaks through gritted teeth. “Don’t ask me to love you, Adelina.”

  I rush the small gap between us, placing my palm flush to his cheek. An ocean of pain and deceit and lies stretches between us, but beneath it all is something raw, something that no amount of hatred or bad deeds seems to be able to erase. I’m treading on dangerous ground with him.

  “I still love you,” I whisper over his lips.

  His eyes slam closed, and a small line sinks between his brows. “I can’t love you and lose you again,” he breathes, the words like a sordid confession.

  “Sasha.”

  His eyes flash open. “So please, don’t do this.” He steps away from me, and my hand limply falls from his face. “And if I’m the only reason you’re going along with Nero’s plan, then stop because it won’t bring me back to you. The closer you walk to death, the further away I will be.” He tears his gaze away and stares out the window as though looking for answers in the darkness that lingers beyond the glass.

  My heart splutters in my chest, awkwardly. He won’t love me if he thinks he’ll lose me. In any other world, in any other situation, there would be a certain beauty in that.

  “When my mother was killed, my father said to me, it was better to have loved her and lost her than not at all.”

  Those hypnotic eyes meet mine. “Your mother was killed by a rival family, Adelina. She didn’t choose to take herself from his arms.”

  I step forward once more, as though by touching Sasha, I could convince him. “I am doing this for us, so we have no more enemies.”

  A sad smile touches his lips. “There will always be enemies. That is the way of things.”

  “I’m vulnerable as long as I am without power.”

  His eyes flick over my face. “No, you’re just hungry for power, and you tell yourself it will save you. If anything, it will only put a target on your back.”

  “What would you have me do? Run? With Sergio dead, another will step up in his place. And another and another.” It’s a lie, with Sergio dead, Enrique will crawl out of the woodwork, and I really can’t outrun him.

  He’s already proved once that he will hunt me to the ends of the earth. With his ring on my finger, I can only imagine the lengths he would go to. But if I stay this course, and sway Sasha to my side once more, he can kill my asshole husband. I need Enrique to show his face because he can’t be killed if no one knows he’s alive. I can’t tell him that Enrique never suffered more than a scratch from me because he’ll ask why I lied to begin with. I can only hope it all plays out the way I want. I’m relying on the reactions of men that I think I know but who are both unpredictable.

  “And with each kill, that target on your back only gets bigger.”

  “Exactly. I can’t walk away. I have to finish this.”

  “So we’re here again? Succeed or die, is that it?”

  A dull throb has taken up residence behind my eyes, and I rub my temples. “I don’t know. Even if I wanted to walk away, Nero wouldn’t let me. I made a deal with him.”

  He’s silent for a moment, his lips pressing into a flat line. He knows I’m right. Sasha might be like family to him, but Nero Verdi will let no one stand in the way of retribution and power. “Then, you need to succeed.”

  “Is that to say you don’t want me to die?”

  He gets closer to me, his expression completely unforgiving. “You don’t want to be a pawn, Adelina, and yet you make yourself one. Time and time again. You are disposable to Nero. The only one who can ensure your survival is you.”

  “And you,” I add.

  He inhales a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling. “I will help you, but not like before. I will protect you, and if necessary, I will kill for you. I will not love you.”

  I duck my chin and offer a small nod, trying to hide the stabbing pain that has taken up residence in my chest. I hate the sinking feeling that threatens to pull me under.

  “Love gets people killed.” Never have truer words been spoken.

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  It’s not what I hoped for, but there is a slither of hope there. He’ll help me do this, and when it’s all said and done, I’ll have his trust. I’m a patient woman.

  “You will survive this, Adelina, but you need to think like Nero. Think like a boss.”

  Think like Nero. He has a point.

  “Okay. How?”

  He shrugs. “I’m a soldier, not a leader. That bit, you’ll have to figure out.” He’s right. Of course, he’s right.

  “I need to speak to Gabi.”

  He nods and turns back to his guns. I grab his arm without thinking. He stills but doesn’t react.

  “Thank you.” My lips brush over his cheek. It’s an innocent kiss, but it feels intimate.

  Eventually, he takes a couple of steps back. There’s a second of awkwardness before I hurry from the room.

  Turns out, my sister is out handling some business with Lorenzo, so I head out to the garden. It’s late, and as I move away from the house, I’m engulfed in darkness. Kicking off my shoes, I walk barefoot over the soft grass, just like my mother used to. She would say that there was nothing better than the feel of nature beneath her feet, that it made her feel grounded.

  I find the little stone bench that sits on top of the cliff, Mama’s bench. The view from this one spot is simply breathtaking in the day. The ocean stretches until it meets the sky, an endless void of blue. At night, the occasional boat can be seen, their lights dancing on the water like fireflies. I can’t see the edge of the cliff beyond, but it makes my heart flutter a little just knowing it’s there. A briny breeze kisses my cheeks, whipping my hair around my face wildly. A crescent moon catches on distant waves, its light swaying gently in a romantic dance.

  My father always used to come out here to think. And so that’s what I do, sit and think, for what feels like hours. Think like Nero. What does Enrique value above all else? His pride, his power, his business. What would hurt him the most? What would damage his business?

  I dial Matteo’s number and press the phone to my ear.

  “Adelina,” he says. “It’s good to hear from you. Have you reconsidered my offer?”

  “No, have you considered mine?”

  “You knew my father wouldn’t like it.”

  “Tsk, tsk, and there was me thinking the Santori family was pioneering a new era in the mafia.”

  “Old habits die hard.”

  “Indeed. I have a favor to ask.”

  “Go on.”

  “I need a contact, a client of Bianchi’s. You know everyone…”

  “I would love to help you, Adelina, but you turned down my offer. I can’t be seen to take sides, and I can’t see why I should without motivation.”

  “If you give me the contact, and I sway them to my side, I’ll give you a cut of their income.”

  He inhales a deep breath. “A date.”

  “What?”

  “When this is all said and done, and you sit on the Bianchi throne, I want a date.”

  It seems too simple. “I offered to date you, and you turned me down, as I recall.”

  “I want one date.”

  “Done.” My voice is laced with suspicion.

  “I’ll text you the number of one of their gun suppliers.”

  “Thank you.”

  “When you speak to him, tell him…tell him you’re a friend of mine.” And just like that, he hangs up, and I frown at my phone screen.

  Barely seconds later, my phone beeps and a text pops up on the screen. The name on it is Reaper with a number. That sounds ominous.

  I dial the number Matteo sent me and place the phone to my ear. With each ring, my pulse climbs a little higher. At times like this, I feel completely out of my depth, as though I have no place calling people like this and trying to have any dealings with them. I feel like a little girl. Forcing the voice of doubt to the back of my mind, I steel myself, pulling an invisible mask over myself. It’s all an act, but one I’m learning to embrace more as each day passes.

  “Yeah?” A voice finally answers, the accent coarse and British.

  “Reaper?” There’s a pause, and he says nothing. “My name is Adelina Ricci-Bianchi. Matteo Santori gave me your number.”

  A low rumble of laughter comes down the phone. “Well, well, I hear you’ve been causing all kinds of trouble.”

  “I wish to meet with you.”

  “And why would you want to do that?”

  “You know why.” Men like this don’t get to where they are by being stupid.

  “I’m not in the habit of having dealings with the enemy of my clients.”

  I laugh this time. “But enemies require guns. War is good for business, is it not?”

  A grumbled sort of agreement comes over the phone. “I’ll meet with you, but that’s it. One meeting.”

  “Where?”

  “I’m in Sicily in two days' time. I’ll send you a location.” The line clicks off, and I finally release a long breath, relieving my lungs of the burning sensation that’s taken over.

  Two days. I wonder if I have that long before Enrique contacts me. I can put him off that long. I know I can.

  10

  Adelina

  The text came just as Reaper promised. The car winds through the countryside, slaloming around the quiet winding roads that lead down to the ocean. There’s a small dock that deals with smaller ships. Several warehouses line the front, and a sole security guard monitors the gate. As we pull up, he simply waves us through. My guess is Reaper uses this dock to ship his products into the country.

  We pause on the dock front, beneath the glow of a lone light. I climb out of the car, my heels clicking over the concrete far too loudly in the silence. The scent of rotten seaweed and boat oil drifts on the cold ocean breeze. I shiver as it caresses the back of my neck and cuts right through the material of my dress.

  There are no other cars here, and no one in sight. I fidget anxiously, barely able to stand still. That single street light casts the dockside in an amber glow, making the darkness beyond seem so much more ominous. I know Sasha is out there, lingering nearby, his crosshairs focused on anyone who might hurt me. That in itself makes me feel safer, but I can’t help the churning sensation in my gut. Something about this doesn’t feel right, and my father taught me to trust my gut always. But if I run now, then Reaper will have no further dealings with me. So, I stand steadfast.

  Lorenzo flanks me. His men—my sister’s men—fan out behind us, eyes trained on the darkness as though some foul beast might creep from it. Gabriella isn’t here. This isn’t a Ricci issue, and I don’t want to involve her in any of this needlessly.

  A cold settles over me, seeping all the way to my bones. I wrap my arms around myself, wishing I’d worn more than this stupid dress.

  Finally, the rumble of an engine cuts through the tense silence. Headlights twinkle in the darkness before growing larger and finally swooping across the dock’s side. Two SUVs stop about twenty feet away from us. The engines idle, and the lights remain on, blinding me.

  Lorenzo shoulders his body in front of mine, his hand sliding to his back to reach for his gun. A car door opens and closes, and a figure rounds the front of the car, standing right in front of the grill. I squint at him, trying to make out his features, but the lights wash everything out until he’s nothing more than a silhouette.

  “Thank you for coming,” I say.

  He takes two steps forward, then another, and another. “Oh, I wouldn’t miss it, principessa.” My stomach drops, and my veins turn to ice. Another step and I can clearly make out the cruel lines of his face.

  “Enrique,” I breathe.

  He throws his head back on a laugh. “Are you pleased to see your husband, Adelina?”

  “I…”

  He comes closer still and reaches out, trailing a finger down my cheek. Lorenzo stiffens, and I place a hand on his arm, stilling him. “We need a talk, you and I.” He cocks a brow. “In private.”

  Grabbing my arm, he drags me toward the car.

  “You aren’t taking her, Bianchi,” Lorenzo says on a snarl.

  Enrique spares him a glance, raking his eyes over the other man before he laughs once more. “My wife doesn’t need a white knight.” He grins. “And I would hate to have to kill you in front of her.” He drags me again, past the blinding headlights, before shoving me into the back of his car.

  Fear grips me as he climbs in after me and slams the door. Of course, I knew this was inevitable, that he would turn up at some point. Sergio’s death was bound to force him from hiding. Does he know I’ve been plotting against him, though? My heart thrums in my chest, so hard I can barely breathe. He knows, I can tell. Panic grips me, but I force myself to breathe evenly. I just have to twist the truth, continue the act. I can do this.

  As soon as Enrique faces me, I swing my arm back and slap him. The sound of my hand meeting his cheek reverberates around the car.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I hiss.

  He lifts his hand, swiping his fingers over the corner of his lip, where one of my rings must have split the skin. “Just keep fighting me, principessa. You only make it worse for yourself.”

  “What exactly do you think I’m doing here?”

  He lashes out, clamping a hand around my throat. Tugging me close, he drags his nose along the side of my jaw. “I know exactly what you’re doing, and oh, how I’m going to make you suffer for it.” His teeth graze my jaw, his grip tightening further until I can feel him physically shaking. “You really thought you could take what’s mine?” He laughs.

  “I did what I had to.” I turn my head until my lips brush his. I hate him, and yet there’s a strange kind of high in getting this close to him, in playing these dangerous games. “I came to kill Sasha Ivanov. I thought I could get close and get it done quickly, but it seems he does not hold the affection for me he once did. Nero Verdi offered a solution, a way to keep the Russian close. An alliance.” I don’t care if I throw Nero under the bus since he didn’t think twice before doing so to Gabi. I meet Enrique’s psychotic gaze. “Sasha killed my father. I can’t simply walk away. I won’t.”

  “Nero Verdi wishes to challenge me?” A slow smile pulls at his lips.

  “Not you, remember you’re supposed to be dead.”

  His jaw clenches so hard, it looks like he may explode. “Who killed Sergio?”

  It’s right there on the tip of my tongue, but for some reason, I’m not as willing to betray Sasha as I am Nero. “I don’t know.”

  “Such pretty lies.” He strokes my cheek with his free hand. “I think you know exactly who killed him, and I think you ordered it.”

  “Why would I order that?” I hiss. “I’m the only one who knows you’re alive. I know it serves no purpose.”

  “Unless you plan to kill me next.” He drags his thumb over my bottom lip. “So you can take what’s mine.”

  “I don’t need to take something I already have. I’m a Bianchi, aren’t I?” I lift a brow.

  His lips twist in an ugly smirk. “You’re a Ricci, and I do not trust you.”

  “Our goals are aligned. That is why I went after Sasha Ivanov. To avenge my father and your brother.”

  His eyes narrow, and I know he doesn’t believe me.

  “Reaper tells me Matteo Santori is helping you,” he says, ignoring my comment altogether.

  I swallow heavily, trying to calm my quickening breaths.

  He leans in closer. “I’m told he tried to broker a betrothal with you.” The words are a caressed breath against my lips.

  Lifting my hand, I cup his jaw, scratching my nails down his face. “He did. I denied him.”

  A wicked smile pulls at his lips. “So, he wants what is mine.” The notion seems to delight Enrique. “Such a shame you’ll never see the light of day again, Adelina.”

  My heart rate rises, and I drop my hand. “I’m doing what we agreed!”

  “Are you? Because as far as I’m aware, Sasha Ivanov is very much alive and killing my men.” He spits the words in an angry hiss. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

  “I’m not his master. He barely speaks to me. The only reason he’s even here is that Nero sent him to watch me—as per our agreement. So yes, he’s still alive because I haven’t managed to get close enough yet.”

  Enrique finally releases my throat. “I thought he was in love with you.”

  “He was.”

  “Was?”

  “I married the enemy. That’s put him off a little.”

  “Well then, it seems you have a problem.” He sighs, turning those dark eyes on me. “Because I set you free for a sole purpose, my little black widow. If you cannot get the job done, then I see no reason for you to be missing from my bed.”

  My stomach rolls, and bile creeps up my throat. “I am not your whore, Enrique.”

  His eyes shift to my lips, and that feral need sparks within them.

  I shift the dynamic and throw my leg over his thighs, straddling him on my knees. My tight skirt rides up, and he tries to look at my bare thighs, but I grab his jaw, leveraging my weight over him as I shove his head back against the seat. My nails dig in so hard they leave little crimson half-moons on his cheek. His hands land on my bare thighs, slowly gliding upward.

  “Sasha Ivanov is not a stupid man,” I whisper over his lips. “But soon, I will have him right where I want him. He will fall in love with me just as he did before.” I press my body to his, and I can almost taste his want. I glide my lips across his cheek to his ear. “And then, I will kill him.” I trail one fingernail over his throat in a slicing motion before I try to move away from him.