Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
And if he's here…then my grandfather is dead too. He never goes anywhere without Battista.
Tommaso Genovese gambled, and he lost.
He lost everything.
The realization comes slowly to a mind numb with shock.
War isn't coming. It's already here.
I should run or scream. I know this, and yet, like an idiot, I do neither.
"Is he dead?" I ask.
Coda looks at Domani, who looks at me.
"My grandfather," I clarify.
Domani hesitates and then nods.
"Okay." I'm not sure what else to say. I feel no sorrow, no grief. I feel nothing. My grandfather is dead, and I feel nothing.
What's wrong with me?
I take a step backward, intending to go back inside and do…what? I don’t get the chance to find out. I bump into a brick wall that wasn't there a minute ago. One with arms and hands.
Mattia Agostino, Rafael Valentino's consigliere.
"I'm sorry," he says.
For what? I want to ask, but I don't get to do that either. He clamps one hand over my mouth, lifting me off my feet with the other.
My heart gives a jarring thud, jolting my entire system. Then and only then does my mind finally snap into action. The fog lifts as pure terror sweeps in. I fight.
I fight like hell.
And I lose.
Chapter One
Callandria
I blink my eyes, slowly coming awake. My head swims, making my stomach roil dangerously. I feel like I've been sleeping for years and not well. I groan, trying to remember…anything. But everything is a giant black void.
What happened?
I shift my gaze carefully around the room, taking in my surroundings. Unfamiliar dark red walls and elegant black furniture greet me. A triptych depicting the Chicago skyline dominates the far wall. It's beautiful, but I've never seen it before now. Black and red curtains hang closed over a bank of windows to the right, with a small table and chairs set up in front of them.
Where am I? How did I get here?
I search my mind but find only that damning void again. I don't remember how I got here. Or where here even is.
I flatten my hands against the silk sheets to push myself upright. Metal clicks, halting the sluggish movement.
What?
I flip back the plush duvet cover surrounding me, my eyes locking on the padded restraint surrounding my left wrist. A length of chain runs from the metal clip to a hook above the bed.
No. Oh, no.
I already know what I'll find, but I check the right wrist anyway. A matching restraint surrounds it.
I'm chained to the bed.
Fear shoots through my system, clearing some of the cobwebs from my mind. Memory returns, first in a trickle and then in a flood.
My reckless decision to run outside without an escort in the middle of the night.
The pile of bodies outside of the garage—all men I knew, all dead.
Domani Brambilla and Coda Passero, two of Rafe Valentino's enforcers.
Utter terror as a hand clamped down over my mouth from behind.
Fighting for my life as my captor dragged me toward an SUV outside the gates.
And then blessed darkness.
Maybe not so blessed, you fool. You've been kidnapped and chained to a bed. Nothing good has ever happened to a woman chained to a bed.
"Does he know about this?" a man rumbles from the other side of the door, anger seething in his dark tone. His deep voice is familiar. I've heard it somewhere before, but I don't know where or when. Tonight, possibly, though I don't think so. He doesn't sound like Coda, Domani, or Mattia.
"No. Given the circumstances, I thought it best to give him some time."
Another bolt of fear lances through me at the sound of the second man's voice. I've definitely heard it before. Right before I passed out.
Or did he drug me?
I don't remember.
But I remember him. Mattia Agostino, the Devil's right hand. If someone dies under order of La Cosa Nostra in this city, his boss gave the order. He's ruled over the city with an iron fist since he rose to power. He's ruthless and brutally efficient.
I think I'm going to live long enough to find out just how ruthless and brutal he can be. If I'm here, it's not by chance. His men took me for a reason.
"I should kill you and Domani for bringing her here," the first man growls to Mattia.
"We couldn't take her to him," Mattia says. "Think about it, Luca. Tommaso is dead, and Rafe left a pile of bodies on Emilio's doorstep. The first place he'll look for his daughter is with him. We're trying to stop a war, not start one."
My breath catches in my throat.
Dead. My grandfather is dead. I knew it, and yet it feels as if I'm learning it all over again. My heart twinges with some emotion, but I have no name for it. It isn't grief. Nor is it sorrow. I know exactly who and what Tommaso Genovese was. A monster.