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PROLOGUE
PORTIA
Aged Fourteen
“Portia, bambina, do not tell your mama. She’ll kill me if she knows I’m giving you ice-cream before dinner.”
I smile at my father. His dark hair is so much like mine. Everyone always tells me how much I look like him. I find it a compliment. I adore my father. He’s the best man I know.
“Mama won’t know, Papa. Don’t worry.”
Even though I’m fourteen, I’m still a daddy’s girl. Nothing will ever change that.
He chuckles, and it’s deep and throaty, reminding me of so many happy memories. “Come along, bambina, we need to get into the house before your mama sees you.”
I flash a smile at him. “I know the way,” I tell him, and bite my lip when he gives me a sharp look. “I always hide from Mama,” I say, walking quickly toward the secret entrance.
“Portia, mia carissima, your mamma loves you. I do not understand why you do not get along.”
I sigh as I skirt around the house, making sure to keep an eye out for Mama. “Papa, I don’t want to get into this.”
Thankfully, he doesn’t say a word and I manage to get us both into the house and into his office without being seen. I take a seat and eat my ice-cream, happy to be in one of my favorite places in the world.
Papa looks at me with a proud smile on his face, his eyes alight with humor as he studies me. “Very good, bambina, but you should realize that I have my own secret route into the house without being seen.”
I bounce on the balls of my feet as I watch him. “You do?”
He shakes his head, unable to take the smile from his face. “Of course I do. Portia, the life I lead, we have every precaution to ensure that you and your mama are safe if anything were to happen.”
My blood runs cold at the seriousness in his tone.
“Don’t talk that way,” I snap. I hate it when he gets all serious and talks about what could happen.
I’m not stupid. I know that my father being a captain for the Famiglia means he’s a dangerous man who does things people would consider evil. But he isn’t like that to me. No, to me, he’s the best father and the best man a girl could ask for. He’s my biggest protector and supporter, and he’ll do whatever he can to make, not only me, but Mama happy.
He shakes his head. “Nothing will happen. Now, what’s going on with you and your mama?”
I sigh. “She’s being irrational,” I say as I finish my ice-cream and sit back in the chair, bringing my legs to my chest. “She’s always getting into my business. Whenever I’m texting Camille, she’s demanding to know who I’m talking to. Papa, she goes through my cell phone. It’s not fair. She’s being irrational and over the top.”
“She’s just worried. You’re young, mia carissima. Your mama is worried about you. But I shall talk with her, make her understand that going through your things is not okay. She’ll be saddened to know she has upset you.”
I nod, not wanting to tell him that she already knows, I hate that they argue about me. But my mama is determined to catch me doing something I shouldn’t be doing. It’s beyond weird and over the top, and it drives me crazy. I believe it’s because she was my age when she was promised to my father, she’s worried about me not living up to tradition. Ugh. I hate that one day I’ll be made to marry someone from the famiglia, but it’s who we are and it’s part of our life. Until then, I’ll enjoy everything in life.
“Now, tell me, how has your training been going?” he asks me as he sits back in his own seat and watches me with a soft look. It has the harsh, weathered lines on his face softening and makes him seem less intimidating.
“You already know,” I tell him with a raised brow. “Don’t Amadeo and Umberto give you a run down after every session?”
He grins. “They do, but I want to know from your own mouth, mia carissima. How is it going?”
I shrug. “Fine. I’m able to use a knife and a gun,” I tell him without emotion. The thought of hurting someone with those weapons makes my stomach flip. “I can defend myself if needed, and according to Umberto, I can kill a grown man if the occasion ever arises.”
My father nods and smiles at me with so much pride it makes my heart clench. “That, bambina, is good. I would like you to continue with your training. As long as you are comfortable.”
“Is there a reason why?” I ask him. I know my father. He wouldn’t make me do this, not unless there was a need. That he’s pushing me to continue just cements that fact even more.
An alarm on his computer goes off, and my heart begins to pound.
What the hell is that?
