Chapter 1

Chapter

One

" L et's raise a glass to the happy couple, Lorenzo and Mia," Mario Grimaldi announces, his voice booming through the opulent wedding hall. Crystal chandeliers glitter above, casting a soft glow on the grand marble floors and the richly adorned tables. My eyes drift to the centerpiece on our table—a towering arrangement of white roses and deep red calla lilies, surrounded by flickering candles. The lavish spread of silverware gleams under the warm light, but all I feel is cold.

Mario turns to look at me, and I force a smile onto my face. My new husband, Lorenzo Valdici, the head of the Valdici mafia family that now controls all of Northern Italy, raises his glass. I do the same, tapping mine against his. The sound rings hollow in my ears. "Happy" isn't in my vocabulary anymore. I take a large gulp of champagne and the bubbles burn down my throat. I'm not much of a drinker, but I have a feeling that's about to change. My whole fucking life is about to change, and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it.

My hand trembles as I raise the glass to my lips again. Renzo notices. His grip tightens on my thigh under the table, making my heart slam into my rib cage. I can't tell if it's from fear or excitement. My new husband is equal parts sexy and terrifying, and I have no idea how to handle either .

Renzo leans in close, his breath hot against my ear. "No wife of mine will ever be drunk in public," he murmurs, his voice a low threat. Our gazes lock, his emerald eyes glittering with a dangerous intensity. "I will not have my wife drunk on our wedding night, either. Your family drew up the rules—no sex before the wedding was one of them. The wedding is over, and I want you stone-cold sober when I fuck you for the first time. I want you to remember every fucking detail because now you're mine." His eyes flick to the glass. "If you keep drinking, I'll take you to one of the side rooms here at the hall right now and fuck you. Capisce ? And Mia, do not embarrass me. You won't like what happens when I'm angry."

His eyes are the color of green fire—intense, mesmerizing, and terrifying as hell. I can't seem to make my vocal cords function, so I just nod. Nothing else needs to be said. It's not a request; it's a decree. I set the glass down on the table, resolving on the spot to become a secret drinker. Why not? My life isn't my own anymore. There's no point in not becoming an alcoholic. Except, of course, Renzo wouldn't like that either and he might take it out on not just me but my family—exactly how I ended up sitting at the wedding table as the guest of honor in the first place.

My gaze drifts over to my parents, standing nearby in conversation with Renzo's brothers. Bile rises in my throat. I hate my parents with everything I have in me. They sold me into this marriage. "It's a business arrangement," my mother had said. "You're a Giordano, Mia. You are the golden prize. The Giordano family is among the strongest and most connected in this world. You carry the name to your husband, and now the Valdicis and the Giordanos are family. Our ties are all the stronger for it. The business will grow, and we'll be able to stop the ‘Ndrangheta and others from even thinking about moving in on our territories. No one will dare take us on now."

When I made the unforgivable mistake of saying I didn't want to marry Renzo, my mother slapped me, then backhanded me again just to drive the point home. I had no choice. My family was in trouble, and no one could know that. The Valdicis could save us, and my parents were willing to offer me up as the sacrificial lamb to make that happen. If I didn't comply, my mother would marry off my two best friends to the absolute worst men possible. They're part of la famiglia too, and my father has the final say on their husbands. My mother is the meanest, most vindictive bitch I've ever known. I couldn't let my dearest friends end up with a fate similar to the one I faced. In a cold, loveless marriage to a monster.

The fake smile stays plastered on my face as more people make toasts and approach the "happy couple." The entire charade is brutal. My stomach churns, and I feel like I might vomit. Across the room, I catch Maria Delmonico's eye. She gives me a tight smile. Her family married her off to Frankie Peaches—whatever his real last name is. Frankie's a loser, but his family controls a significant chunk of the drug business in Milano. Rumor has it Maria has stepped in and is taking over because Frankie's too incompetent to manage it. At least I won't have to worry about something like that. Who the hell would want me to take over from Renzo?

"Mind if I borrow your bride for a moment?" Luna asks. My best friend squeezes my shoulder and directs a big, fake smile at Renzo. We've all become experts at pretending to be happy while hiding our hatred. A skill honed over a lifetime.

"Of course." Renzo leans over and kisses me again. The feel of his lips might be exciting if we'd met some other way, in some other time. Now, all I feel is dread. He isn't going to be happy when he finds out my secret.

Renzo is devastatingly handsome with his jet-black hair, worn slightly longer so it falls over his forehead. His bright green eyes and chiseled jawline make him look like a movie star, but the power and danger that lurk beneath the surface is what makes him as terrifying as he is irresistible. His eyes can turn cold in a heartbeat. I saw it firsthand during our "get to know you" dinner, chaperones in tow.

We were sitting in a private courtyard when some drunk stumbled over, shouting about how Renzo's brother, Nico, had screwed him and how the whole Valdici family were a bunch of pigs. Or at least that's what I think he said. My Italian isn't as good as it should be, thanks to attending boarding school in the United States since I was five. Renzo waved his bodyguards back and approached the man, then proceeded to beat the hell out of him. I thought for sure Renzo was going to kill him, but he finally let the guy drop, and the bodyguards dragged him away. Renzo disappeared inside to clean up, but I couldn't shake the feeling that the whole thing was some kind of show—a warning to me. This was my future husband, and I'd better toe whatever line he drew in the sand, or else.

On shaky knees, I follow Luna to the back of the hall. I think we're heading to the restroom, but she directs me to a small door to the right of the stairs. She puts a finger to her lips and pushes me through.

I find myself in a coat closet, the scent of cedar and leather thick in the air. My other bestie, Pippa, is already there, holding a bottle of champagne. The dim light casts long shadows on the rows of elegant coats hanging neatly on wooden hangers.

"Need a drink?" Pippa asks, holding out the bottle.

I grab it, take a long gulp, and hand it back. "Thanks. This is just…"

"A fucking disaster?" Pippa finishes for me.

I nod, swallowing hard. "On so many levels."

"Could be worse," Luna says, taking the bottle from Pippa.

"How?" I demand, my voice sharper than I intend.

Luna takes a swig and hands the bottle back to Pippa. "You could have to marry Ignocio Dicerbo."

A violent shudder runs through me, and I gag a little. "Oh my God. I can't." I glance around, spot a small stool, and flop down onto it.

"She's right," Pippa agrees. "He's older than dirt, mean as hell, and weighs more than three hundred pounds. He'd squish you the first time you had sex."

Suddenly, it all seems incredibly funny, and I start laughing. My friends join in, the sound echoing off the closet walls. The thought of marrying Dicerbo is hilarious—except it's not, and I still can't stop laughing. Pippa's expression shifts as she realizes something is seriously wrong. She hands the bottle to Luna and takes my hand.

"Mia, that's enough."

But I keep laughing, doubling over with it.

"Mia," Pippa repeats, more firmly this time .

I try to catch my breath, but the laughter keeps bubbling out, unstoppable. It's like I'm outside my own body, watching myself lose it. Pippa and Luna exchange worried glances. Finally, Luna slaps me hard across the cheek.

The shock sobers me immediately. I stare at my friend, the sting on my cheek grounding me. "Thank you," I whisper, my voice shaky. "I'm sorry." Tears prick my eyes. This is a nightmare come true.

"It won't be that bad," Luna says, trying to reassure me. "Lorenzo is hot as hell. He's like a dark, twisted Lucifer." She chugs the champagne, then burps and hiccups. We all start laughing again, but a sound outside the door makes us clamp our hands over our mouths.

"Si lo so, ma deve essere presto o sarà troppo tardi. Sta negoziando l'accordo ora. Non abbiamo molto tempo ." The voice fades away, leaving us in tense silence.

"That sounded tense. What did he say?" Pippa asks as she takes the bottle from Luna.

Her Italian is worse than mine so I translate for her. "He said something along the lines of, ‘Yes, but it has to be soon or it will be too late.' Then something about negotiating a deal and not having much time." I shrug. I'm sure a lot of business is happening at my wedding. I don't need to know about any of it, yet.

"Be happy you don't know what it's about," Luna commented echoing my thoughts. Then she turned to me, "Seriously, Mia, are you okay?"

I meet her gaze, wanting to lie, to tell them I'm strong enough to handle this. But I can't get the words out.

"I fucking hate them," Pippa snarls. "You, of all people, shouldn't be married to Lorenzo Valdici. He's mean as hell and tough as nails. They all are—Nico and Luca too. Goddamn your father. That man should be shot."

I reach out and squeeze her arm. "Pippa, don't say that. I don't like it either but killing my father won't solve the problem. My mom is just as bad. Maybe worse." I suppress a shudder. "If it's not them, then the uncles or cousins will take over and decide who we marry. You can imagine how that would go. "

"Ignocio Dicerbo," Pippa spits out the name with utter disgust.

"He's the second choice. Dicerbo has all the best connections after Renzo's family." I muster the courage I have left and stand. "Let it go. We don't have a choice. I'm married to Renzo, and I just have to make the best of it. At least for now."

"What does that mean? You have a plan?" Luna demands and then grins. "What am I saying? Of course, you have a plan. You always do. We wouldn't have made it through boarding school without your plans. Hell, I'd have been expelled more than once if it wasn't for you. I should never doubt you." She gives me a quick hug. "What's the plan?"

The truth is, for the first time I can remember, I don't have a plan. I don't have a fucking clue. Sweat breaks out between my breasts, but I'm Mia Giordano and possibly as tough as my mother. I bluff my way through the conversation. "I'm still working out the details, but I'm getting there."

"Yes!" Luna says, doing a little dance. "I knew you wouldn't let us down. You never do."

I force a smile and grab the bottle for another large gulp.

"While you're figuring it out, at least you get to screw Renzo," Pippa says with a slow smile. "I hear he's fucking amazing in bed. You're going to have so much fun using the box of toys we gave you at your bachelorette party."

My smile falters, and I collapse back onto the stool.

Pippa's eyes widen. "Oh my God."

"What?" Luna demands.

"You're still a virgin?" Pippa asks, disbelief in her voice. "How could you still be a virgin? Holy shit. I thought you and Peter…"

I shake my head. "We tried. Peter couldn't get it up. He blamed me. Said it was my fault."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Luna explodes. "You're gorgeous! Just look at you. Dark, thick hair that curls so beautifully, huge dark eyes, and a figure that any woman would kill for. No way in hell was it your fault. Peter's a loser. "

"Agreed," Pippa says. "But that doesn't solve the problem. I told you you should've slept with Oliver back in high school. He was hot."

"Yeah, but if my family found out, they would've killed Oliver." I close my eyes as the room spins slightly. "They would've killed Peter too come to think of it. Probably why he couldn't get it up."

"You're not wrong," Pippa agrees. "It's hard enough being a capo's daughter, but you—you're a mob princess. That's a whole different ballgame."

"Pippa, you aren't just a capo's daughter. You're the capo's daughter—my father's right-hand man. How is your aunt by the way? I know Luigi isn't here because of your Aunt Vittoria's illness, or so I was told."

"She's not doing well. Uncle Luigi is beside himself."

I glance at Luna. "Your father was already talking to mine about marriage for you. I overheard them. The fact that he runs the ‘import-export' arm of the business between here and the US means he gets to pick from higher up the food chain when it comes to a husband for you. We're all just screwed."

"Except you haven't been," Pippa points out.

Luna shrugs. "Maybe Renzo will be pleased that you're a virgin. You know…that whole ‘no one has ever been there before me' thing. It could stroke his ego."

I sit here stunned that we're even having this conversation. But more so, I'm paralyzed by the fear that Renzo won't want me. Or worse—what if Renzo can't get it up when he sees me naked? I start to tip the bottle up, but Luna snatches it away.

"Not a good idea. Your parents will be seriously pissed if you get drunk at your own wedding. They'll say you disgraced the family and brought shame on them. God knows what they'll do then." She makes a hasty sign of the cross.

Pippa pushes her dark hair back from her face. "Probably punish us to punish you. They always use us against you."

"You're probably right." I stand, and the room tilts slightly. "Shit," I mutter, reaching out to steady myself .

"You need food. You haven't eaten anything," Luna says, biting her lip. "Okay, here's the plan. We're taking you to Auntie Lina."

"Zia Lina? No fucking way. She'll lecture me on the duties of being a good wife and all that shit." I hiccup.

"Yeah, but no one will disturb you two, and you can eat while she talks. You'll be sober in no time—or at least not as drunk."

I grimace. "Renzo says he'll fuck me here if I get drunk tonight." I slap a hand over my mouth. I can't believe I just said that out loud.

Luna glances at Pippa, and they both look at me. "Zia Lina."

I nod, and they each take an arm. We pass the rows of sleek coats, their soft textures brushing against my arms as they lead me out of the closet. They keep me on my feet and deliver me to a chair next to my Aunt Carmelina, my father's sister, who immediately launches into a lecture about the virtues of being a good wife. Two minutes later, a large plate of food is thrust under my nose, and Luna sits down beside me, gesturing for me to eat. I force myself to take small bites, the food heavy and tasteless in my mouth. I'm not hungry, but slowly, the haze lifts, and I start to sober up. I should want to face my new life sober and ready for anything but all I want to do is run. Australia has a nice ring to it. Maybe, just maybe there's a chance to escape.