Prologue

The phone drops with a loud clatter. Shot. He’s been shot. My blood is cold. Everything is cold as I hit the hard tiles of the kitchen floor.

No.I shake my head. This is not happening.

He’s a hockey player. Sure, it’s not the safest job in the world. But when you compare it to what my family does for a living, well, it’s pretty damn safe.

This isn’t supposed to happen. This shouldn’t be happening.

“Lil, shit, what’s wrong?” My mom’s voice has me looking up. She reaches out and moves my hands away from my hair. I didn’t realize I was pulling at it until she pries my fingers from the roots. “Lil, what’s wrong?” she asks again, her voice rushed. Panicked.

I peer up at her with tears running down my face. “He got shot.”

“Who?”

“Travis… he’s…” I can’t even finish the sentence. That’s when the anger starts to take over, quickly replacing the shock. I push myself up to my feet. “He did it. He actually did it,” I hiss as I move to step around my mother.

“What? Who?” The sound of her footsteps follow me down the hall. I don’t stop or bother to answer her.

I pick up my pace as I storm towards my father’s office. I always thought his threats were just that. Threats. I never, in a million years, would have thought he’d follow through with them. I should have known better. My father is the Don of the Valentino Crime Family. Of course, he means what he says. Of course, his threats aren’t empty.

We were raised to believe family above all else. Well, where’s that loyalty now?

The two soldiers standing guard at his office door take one look at me and wisely step aside. The door slams against the wall as I shove it open. “I can’t believe you!”

My father drops his pistol back onto his desk when his eyes connect with mine, his face twisted with shock. Surprise. I can feel my mom’s hands gripping my arm.

“Liliana, you need to calm down,” she says.

“Calm down?” I shake out of her hold and return my focus to my father. “Why? Just tell me why?”

“You need to be more specific, Liliana,” he says, his voice calm and his expression devoid of emotion now. Stoic. The way he’s mastered it to be.

“Why did you have my boyfriend shot?” I ask him.

“What are you talking about?”

“Travis, he was shot. Who else but you would have a reason to shoot him, Dad?” I yell.

“I didn’t do it, Liliana. I don’t know what’s going on, but I will find out,” he says.

“Don’t bother. Stay out of it. Stay out of my business. But be warned… if I find out you had anything to do with this, I will never forgive you.” Fresh tears stream down my cheeks as I spit the words.

The hurt I see in my father’s eyes doesn’t help. He walks around the desk, approaching me like I’m a wounded animal. And I guess, right now, I kind of am.

I hold up a hand to stop him before he reaches me. “Do not touch me.”

Then I turn around and run from the office and straight up to my room. I need to find my passport. I need to get on the next flight to Vancouver. Or, better yet, I need the family jet. I pick up my phone and message Alessandro. If anyone can get me on that jet without my father finding out before it takes off, it’s my brother.

Me:

I need you to arrange to have the jet take me to Vancouver. Now.

Alessandro:

Why?

Me:

I need to get to Vancouver now. Travis was shot outside the arena. Don’t tell Dad I’m going.

Alessandro:

On it, sis.

I toss my phone down on the bed. The door to my room opens and I turn around to find my mother watching me.

“It wasn’t him, Lil. Your father would never do anything to hurt you,” she says.

“He’d do anything to make sure I never left this house. Let’s not pretend otherwise,” I counter.

“He wouldn’t do this,” she says more adamantly.

I want to believe her. It would break my heart if my family were the ones behind this. I want to believe that they would never do something so awful to me, but how can I be sure? I was raised to always question every situation. To never fully trust what anyone tells me. But what if the monster I was always supposed to be wary of… is the same one who gave me life?

I’m not stupid. I’ve heard the horror stories. I’ve seen how terrified people are of my father. You don’t become a Don of a crime family without being ruthless. I’ve never experienced that side of him, though. He was always just Dad to me.

The man who would dance with me for hours on end when I was little, the one who would let me follow him around, even when I knew he was busy. The man who stayed up all night with me, held me in his arms the first time I had my heart broken. He might have been promising to murder the boy who did it, but he was still there for me.

He’s always been there for me. My number one supporter. His love for me isn’t something I’ve ever questioned. After all, they say a parent’s love knows no bounds. But they say a lot of shit. And not all of it is true.

I told my parents that I was planning to move to Vancouver with Travis last week. And my father had a massive tantrum, forbidding me from leaving the estate. Like I knew he would. He claimed that he couldn’t cope with me being in a different house, let alone a different country.

So, I find it hard to believe he didn’t have anything to do with Travis being shot a few days later. It can’t be a coincidence. Us Valentinos don’t believe in coincidences.