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Prologue
Nico
Two weeks later…
Loud sobbing to my left echoes around the cold, vast space, breaking the otherwise quiet of the church. The noise is so gut wrenching my chest cracks a little more. Tightening my arm around my mamma, I hold on to her grief wracked, trembling body, like my life depends on it. And it does. I will not let my mamma break further than she already has.
Though my papà was a monster of the worst kind, she loved him more than anything. Did he deserve that love? No. But it doesn’t change the fact that he was her husband or that she worshipped the ground he walked on despite his many transgressions. Sure, I wanted my papà dead, but not like this. Not by the hands of my enemies.
Two weeks ago, everything turned to shit. Not only did Ocean, my fucking woman, disappear without a trace, but the Bratva escalated their war with us and ruthlessly gunned down my papà and a couple of his men, in cold blood. And of all places, it was on the street, outside the salon I own.Bellissima. At the time, I was confused as to why he would be there, but I soon found out those reasons and it had everything to do with Ocean. My jaw clenches just thinking about what I found out.
Gio, the guard I had assigned to Ocean, had been knocked out cold during most of the chaos, but when he came around, he told me what he knew. That led me to Angelo, one of Papà’s senior guards. After learning that hisDonwas dead and I would be the new head of the Marchettifamiglia, he sang like a fucking canary and told meeverything.
My breathing picks up, anger shooting through me and my blood turning hot when I think about howOceandeceived me all those months. Nonetheless, and despite her deception, I have to admit I’m somewhat proud of what she achieved in those months I had her. No other before her, and I will damn well make sure that no one after her will ever be able to betray me in that way again. That doesn’t mean I don’t still want her deceitful ass. That I will stop at nothing until I find my lying littleTesoro. I will burn the world to the ground, inch by little inch if that’s what it takes. No matter what has happened or what is yet to come, she is mine. And when I finally get my hands back on her delicate little neck, she will realize exactly what being mine means.
“Nic,” a soft feminine voice whispers from my right. Glancing down, I meet my sister’s glossy, tear-filled eyes. Her lips tremble, worry all over her face as she jerks her head toward our mother. “Is she going to be okay?” she whispers shakily.
Squeezing my mamma closer to me, I inhale when a heartbreaking sob bursts from her. My gaze meets my sister’s concerned one and I lean down, pressing a kiss to the top of Allegra’s head, trying to comfort her in any way I can. “She will be,” I murmur, my gaze dropping to where Dante holds my sister protectively, as if at any minute she could disappear. Guess he decided he has no fucks to give, now that my papà is no longer with us. His passive eyes lock on mine, but I don’t miss the flash of relief in them. Dante believes that now my papà has passed and is no longer in charge of my sister’s future, he can love her without restraint.
Unfortunately for him, I fear that won’t be the case.
Exhaling a breath, I tear my gaze away from him, glancing over my shoulder to where the Romanos sit. All the families are here to pay their respects to the fallenDon. Papà was not only the head of the Marchettifamigliabut also the commission. I will now take over both positions, making me the most powerful man in the city.
Riccardo Romano stands beside his father, tense in his stance. His jaw clenches, murder burning in his eyes as he stares at something orsomeone. I don’t have to follow his gaze to know who he is looking at, but I do anyway, finding exactly what I knew I would. My eyes land on my best friend and where he holds Allegra. My gaze flicks back to Riccardo and I know with everything inside me, he is going to be a big problem. Not just for Dante, but for me too. And I need to be prepared for that.
Father Michaels’ voice trails off, signaling the end of the service and drawing my attention back to the front where my papà’s coffin sits. If it were anyone else, we would now be heading outside to the cemetery to watch as he is lowered into the ground. That won’t be happening today. Only the family and a couple of Papà’s closest friends will be heading to a private service at our family crypt, located in the grounds of our Hamptons estate. He will be laid to rest alongside his papà and mamma. It’s the Marchetti family tradition and will also be my final resting place when the time comes.
“The Marchetti family would like to thank you all for coming today and for your understanding in their need to grieve privately. If you would all like to make your way outside, this concludes today’s service.” Father Michaels recites the words I asked him to say to our guests. We don’t need to be stared at or scrutinized like animals in a zoo any longer. Especially Mamma.
Today has been traumatic enough for her as it is. I refuse to let her be put on display in her grief, while these people pass on their fake condolences and faux concern. At a guess, I would say almost everyone here today is glad to see Lorenzo Marchetti gone. He was ruthless in his ways. Had become unhinged, and unpredictable, which is why our men began to turn on us in favor of our enemies. It was time for change and with Papà gone, I can start a new, stronger, better order. They don’t know it and I would never admit to it, but the Bratva did me a favor. I wanted him gone. I just assumed at some point I would do it myself.
“Are you ready, Nic?” Dante asks, breaking me from my thoughts.
Glancing around the church, I notice that it’s now empty apart from me, Mamma, Allegra, Dante, Papà’s consigliere Giuseppe, his wife Giulia, and the many guards I have stationed around the old church. “Yes. I just want to thank Father Michaels and make sure everything is in place to have Papà transported to the crypt. Have the cars brought around. We will leave shortly.” Nodding, he releases my sister, making his way to the back of the building where he will pass on my orders to the necessary people.
“What time are you planning on doing the private service?” Giuseppe asks, looking older than I have ever seen him. The death of Papà has certainly taken a toll on him.
Sliding my free hand in my pants pocket, I meet his eyes. “Around four p.m. You’re more than welcome to join us. I know he would want you there,” I tell him honestly.
He dips his chin. “I will be there.” His voice is weary, thick with emotion.
“I will let the guards know to expect you.” He gives me a curt nod before taking his wife’s hand and walking down the aisle.
Glancing at Mamma, I frown when I find her staring off into space. Her blue eyes, that are usually so filled with life, are now vacant and lost. I look at my sister as she steps toward Mamma, taking her free hand and squeezing gently. My chest constricts, a lump building in my throat. “Come on. Let’s say goodbye to Father Michaels and get you home.”
We move toward where the solemn looking priest stands. I ask him the questions I need to, and he gives me the answers I want, confirming that Papà is set to be transported back to our family home within the next thirty minutes. Not trusting the Bratva not to issue another attack, I made sure to have an armed guard surrounding him on his final journey. Not that he deserves it, but my mamma doesn’t need further stress, so I did it for her.
With everything arranged, I lead my mamma and sister out to the awaiting vehicles. Determination heats my veins when I notice all the soldiers watching me and waiting for direction from their new leader. Nodding, I slide into the car next to Mamma, my mind going to what comes next.
Taking over as Don.
Finding Ocean.
Or, if I am going by my recent discovery and her real name.
Emilee Ocean Caldwell.
Whoever she is, whatever her fucking name.
