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Chapter Two
Giulia
If someone had told me as a twelve-year-old girl when I was planning my dream wedding that I would actually be marrying a fucking psychopath, I would have given up on the dream right then. But life is what it is, and you have to play the cards you are dealt.
Sitting in the bridal boutique, I watch my mother, sister Andrea, and best friend Harper flit around trying to find me the perfect dress. I really couldn’t be bothered. I could get married in a trash bag for all I cared. The entire marriage is a fucking sham. My father and Salvador went behind my back and arranged it, and now I am expected to be the good little daughter and fall into fucking line.
Every moment of this entire fucking fiasco grates on my nerves. I don’t want to marry for power or to further my father’s career. I want to marry for love, and if not for love, I at least want to marry someone I can stand. Salvador is not that man.
Since I was a little girl, he has given me the creeps. Always hanging around, giving me hugs, and buying me toys. He has always watched me with more interest than I’m comfortable with. Now I finally understand why. He wants me as his own.
He is more than ten years my senior, for God’s sake, but it’s not the age gap that truly bothers me. No, it’s how long he has been biding his time before making his move. He professes to love me, but the man probably doesn’t even know my middle name or my favorite color. Seriously? How do you build a life with someone like that?
“What about this one, Giulia?” Andrea asks excitedly.
It’s a fucking taffeta monstrosity, but I smile and nod, so she adds it to the pile. All the dresses will be taken from the boutique to our father’s house, and I will try them on there. Where my father can issue his approval. They have already picked out twenty dresses between the three of them.
I just want to leave this place. Maybe hit a dive bar, get some tequila and a greasy burger. I can’t stand all this wedding planning bullshit. I don’t care about the dress or the flowers or the damn cake because I don’t care about the groom.
The alarm on my cell phone goes off, and all three of the women I am with turn to stare at me. This is my moment. My saving grace. Thank God I set a damn reminder, even though I can’t remember what it was for originally. It doesn’t matter now because I have my escape.
“I completely forgot!” I exclaim while grabbing my handbag and stuffing my cell phone inside. “I have an appointment with my gynecologist to have my birth control adjusted.”
“What do you mean adjusted?” my mother asks with a lifted eyebrow.
Crap! I need to think on my feet. But Andrea saves me in the nick of time.
“She means to go off the birth control, Mom,” she whispers loudly, rolling her eyes. “Salvador will want an heir and what better time than to start on their honeymoon?”
My mother blushes furiously while I swallow the bile rising in my throat, but this excuse allows me to leave the boutique.
“We know what you like, honey. Everything will be at the house when you get back.” She waves me off.
I don’t ask any questions, I just leave. Heading down the street, I pull my phone back out of my bag and Google the best burgers in the area. I know exactly where I’m going to end up, but having options is always nice. I’m staring down at my phone, not watching where I’m going when I walk straight into a wall of muscle.
Before I can fall on my ass, strong hands grip beneath my shoulders and catch me. My gaze travels up and up and up before reaching a strong jaw. Bow-shaped lips, a nose that has clearly been broken a few times, dark brown eyes, and hair the color of onyx. He has a darkness about him, but he is drop-dead gorgeous. I recognize him, but I can’t place him. I can, however, not stop myself from staring at him.
“Giulia?” His voice is a deep timbre that causes goosebumps to rise all over my body. My name has never sounded so sexy.
“Yes?” I wanted to sound confident, but my answer comes out breezy.
“We need to talk.” He ushers me toward a black car with dark tinted windows.
I don’t know this man, and I sure as hell am not getting into a car with him. How the hell does he know my name? My father may not be the top dog in the organization, but taking me will still gain some other idiot leverage.
“No,” I say forcefully, pulling my arm from his grip. “I’m not going anywhere with you. I have no idea who you are or what you want, but I can tell you this isn’t happening.”
The man smiles at me before extending his hand toward me for a handshake.
“My name is Alceu Cammareri,” he says.
The blood in my veins runs ice cold as I stare at him with what I am sure is pure, unadulterated fear. Alceu Cammareri is the most feared don on the South Coast. The stories that run around about him are terrifying. People don’t even speak his name out loud, afraid that it may call him to them. He’s like the motherfucking boogeyman, except people are terrified of this monster.
“I see you know who I am.” He smirks. “But don’t worry, Giulia. I come bearing gifts. I can get you out of your marriage to Salvador Berlusconi,”
