Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Everything’s taken care of,” my father said, which I knew was true. My parents had always taken care of everything, which was the charitable way of putting it. Another way was that they’d never let me do much of anything. Still, that was all I knew, and it was over now. It was a strange feeling.
The music ended. “It’s time for the final toast,” he said gruffly. He led me up to the front table where Massimo waited. I stood between the two men, a bridge between two powerful mafia families. My father spoke first, talking about the importance of family and alliances.
Then he placed my hand in Massimo’s, a move made for symbolism. My fiancé’s strong fingers closed around mine as he spoke about the strong bond we were forming. There might have been one or two naïve people in the audience who thought he meant our engagement, but even I didn’t believe that. No, this was about the business transaction between him and my father. Between an old, influential mafia family in New York, and a newer, even more powerful mafia family in Chicago.
And at the end of the speeches, my father and my future husband shook hands while everyone raised their glasses. A few people even looked my way, but mostly, their eyes were on the business merger. On the men. Because men were the ones who were important in this world. That was another message I’d received since birth.
Later, as the private jet carried me to my new home, I took off my seatbelt and hugged my knees to my chest. Massimo and his brothers were a few rows in front of me, enjoying whiskey and scotch as they talked and laughed.
The lit-up cities became fewer and farther between as we left the city, and there was nothing to see outside the plane except darkness.
I wasn’t even aware that I’d fallen asleep until the plane touched down, jolting me awake. My heart pounded as the plane bounced around before the speed reduced. I could’ve gathered my things as the plane taxied through the dark runway of the private airport, but instead, I let my eyes close again. It felt too soon to face what came next. Too scary.
So I let myself drift off again.
Later, strong arms gathered me up. I wrapped my arms around the neck of the man who lifted me, and saw, to my surprise, that it wasn’t my fiancé. It wasn’t even Carmine, who looked as if he could easily carry half a dozen women my size.
No, it was Stefano, my future brother-in-law.
“Welcome to Chicago, Leila,” he whispered as he carried me out of the plane and into my new life.
2
LEILA
My first views of Chicago didn’t make much of an impression on me. The view from the limo with the tinted windows didn’t look that much different than New York. And I was still surrounded by men who had far more control of my life than I did myself.
Massimo and Carmine talked in low voices as we drove. They were sitting across from each other on the other side of the stretched seats. Stefano sat across from me, but he mostly just looked out the window. He’d seemed so nice when we danced, but he didn’t seem to have much to say now, and I wondered why that was.
The lights faded as we headed out of the city. The streetlights grew fewer and farther between. Soon, we were in a residential neighborhood, but not one like in NYC. Here, the houses were large and on great quantities of land. We passed many iron gates, and only by squinting could I glimpse the huge mansions behind them.
Finally, the driver turned into one. A huge, metal gate slid open with a series of clangs and groans. It shut behind us as we traveled up the dark drive.
After the engine cut off, all was quiet for a moment. Then the driver opened the door. Stefano gestured for me to go first. “Home sweet home,” he muttered under his breath.
I barely felt my hand in the driver’s large one as I stepped out of the limo. The house in front of me was definitely a mansion, as my parents had said. But I still wasn’t prepared for the size of it, nor the feeling it evoked. The house was three stories tall but not uniformly so. There were roofs and eaves and even a few turrets, and I wondered if it had been built in stages, with add-ons throughout the years. Not that the architecture mattered much. But since I was likely to be spending a lot of time here—perhaps all my time—I feasted my eyes on the place, taking in as much detail as I could.
As I stared upward, Massimo passed me, exhaling in an irritated manner as he walked around me. Slowly, I followed him up the stairs toward the massive front door. The walls on either side of the doorway were dark. I couldn’t tell what they were made of in this dim light, but the overall effect made them look as if they’d been damaged in a fire. Probably they hadn’t been, but that’s how it looked. As if the building were old and ruined.