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“Let’s go get them.” I tried to pull away but he refused to let me go.
“No. Listen to me. Go get help.”
In doing so, I would expose our secret.
He shook me hard. “Lucia. Please. Help me save my family.”
“Yes. Yes.” Without any additional hesitation, I rushed toward the entrance, determined to get help. His family meant everything to him. The crackling sound as timbers crashed to the ground was horrifying, but I refused to stop running.
I raced away, pushing through the terrified animals, struggling to make sense of what had happened.
Another horrible boom clamored in my ears, the force pitching me forward to the ground. Tears sprang to my eyes, the stench of smoke keeping me doubled over. But I knew I had to get up. I struggled to my feet, clawing at my throat, my vision blurred. “Help,” I managed but the sound couldn’t be heard. I was afraid. So afraid. Wasn’t anyone coming to our rescue? I forced myself to keep moving, fighting to get enough air.
When I finally noticed two men, I headed in their direction. As one of them turned, my eagerness turned to horror, seeing a weapon in his hand and a grin on his face, flames erupting high in the sky. “No!”
CHAPTER4
“If I could have just one last wish. I would share just one last kiss. And tell you how much I loved you so. More than you will ever know.”
—John F. Connor
Present day
Lucia
Rarely was I surprised about anything. I’d trained myself to be a keen observer, prepared for what life tossed in my way, but as I stared out the window of my office, I was forced to overcome a moment of shock. Perhaps I’d been more naïve than I’d wanted to admit to myself, or stupid enough to believe that my father’s tight leash wouldn’t affect me from such a long distance. Now I knew I was wrong.
“What did you just say to me, Father?”
“I said that you are to be married, Lucia. One month from today.”
Even as he said the words, I remained haunted, not from his blasphemous statement but from the sensations that had stayed with me since awakening in the middle of the night. I couldn’t shake them, the ugliness from the nightmare leaving a dull ache behind my eyes. It had been some time since I’d suffered through the horrible visions, which is why my father’s bullshit wouldn’t be tolerated. I rubbed my temples, taking several deep breaths.
The dream had all been too real. I’d sworn someone had been standing over me, watching me sleep. Yet I’d checked the locks on the doors and windows. I’d gone through my house checking every room. Nothing had been out of place.
“Are you listening to me?” my father barked, dragging me back to the ugly details of my life.
While my father, Roberto Lazarro, wasn’t getting any younger, he was still considered a powerful force. He’d destroyed several enemy oppositions over the years, maintaining control of a portion of the country that had seen its share of mafia wars, bloodshed and violence considered normal. If he was resorting to an alliance with a faction he’d once called barbaric, then the threat of another war was imminent.
However, I still wanted no part of it. I’d made my peace with certain facts regarding my heritage years before.
As the oldest child, I should be going through training to take over my father’s regime, but within the Cosa Nostra, no woman would ever rule an empire. It wasn’t allowed by ancient customs that I wanted no part of.
Arranged marriages were another tradition that had been around for centuries. Sometimes it strengthened ties while often it destroyed families. When children were brought into the world, their births perpetuated the curse.
I pressed my fingers against my lips to keep from laughing. I certainly had a jaded view of what others would consider normal. After all, I’d grown up as an Italian princess, pampered and preened to become the perfect wife to another controlling man. Since leaving the family fold, allowed to live in New York, I’d believed myself to be free of the burden of an arranged marriage. I’d only fooled myself. My father had needed someone to build his empire in the States and I’d bought his bullshit by doing so I would be allowed to live my life the way I wanted to.
“And just who am I supposed to be marrying?” The edge in my voice continued to increase.
“Antonio Romano.”
I laughed, the sound as bitter as my thoughts. “I don’t think so. The man is a pig.”
“You have no say!” My father rarely snapped at me, or least he hadn’t in almost fifteen years. I sensed his anger, but it wasn’t entirely about my intended disobedience. He was worried another force would claim his kingdom, tossing him off the throne. I’d handled the legitimate side of my father’s lucrative business long enough to know when the family was being threatened. The marriage would erase a problem, creating a realm to be reckoned with. It would also put an end to the question of who would run the Lazarro crime syndicate after his death.
And it wouldn’t be me.
I wondered how my younger brother felt about being passed over completely.
