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“Okay then, sweetheart. Have you ever heard of the D’Angelo family?” my dad questions.
I feel my complexion pale. Suddenly, the room is too small, and there’s not enough oxygen to breathe. Several seconds pass while I’m as still as a corpse, struggling to move and remind the world that a woman called Daniella Evans even exists. Maybe then it’ll move on and this cruel joke will find some other unsuspecting person.
My parents look at me, their expressions both guilty and sympathetic.
“Please tell me that’s a joke, Dad,” I say, finally finding my voice. “Of course I know the D’Angelo family. Are you hoping to strike some sort of deal with them? Because there’s no wayI’mthat deal. Right? You wouldn’t have sold your only child to a crime syndicate!”
My father flinches, and my mom looks away. I feel like I’m drowning. This time when I get to my feet, neither of them tries to stop me.
"Which one?” I ask, my voice sounding unlike mine. “Which of them do I have to marry?”
“The new Don, my sweet. Christian D’Angelo,” my father replies.
I laugh hysterically, throwing my hands up in the air. So they not only sold me to the mafia, they sold me to the worst of them all.
“Daniella, baby,” my mom begins, but I shake my head.
“I need to go and process this information somewhere else, Mom. Please!”
She nods, giving me permission to leave. And leave I do. In fact, I run, through the hallways of my family house, down the spiral staircase, and out of the door. I don’t pause to breathe until I’m inside my red Mercedes.
As I make my exit from my home, there’s only one thought ringing in my head.
Run.
CHAPTER2
Christian
Feared and respected.
The words that the D’Angelo empire was built on. It follows me everywhere, on every wall, every clear surface. It lives and breathes inside of me. A constant noose, wrapping tighter around my neck with each breath. Some people are forced unto responsibility, but me? I was born for it, raised for it, and despite not knowing until a few years ago that I would be the next Don of our family, it’s always been clear that I was the only one who had what it takes.
“Yo, Chris. How’s it going?”
I glare both at the name and the person walking inside the room. Only members of my immediate family can call me that without getting a bullet wound to the head. And right now, my immediate family includes my two brothers and my mother.
Very slowly, I unwrap the boxing gloves in my hand, wondering for a second if I just might have to use them. Christopher D’Angelo, although we all call him Topher. He’s my younger brother; anyone looking at the two of us side by side would see that clearly. Long dark hair and brown eyes, the telltale signs of a D’Angelo man. But our similarities stop at our facial attributes. Topher’s in a rumpled shirt and his dark hair is in even worse disarray. He couldn’t look less put together if he tried. It’s all an act, an intentional way of saying fuck you to the rules of propriety. My younger brother’s the opposite of me in every way. And yet, I would die for him. He’s my brother.
“Did you fuck up?” I ask, finally taking off the boxing gloves and placing them on the table beside me.
My brother raises a thick, dark eyebrow. “Really? You haven’t seen me in two weeks and that’s the first thing you want to ask?”
“Yes, Topher. Because I haven’t seen your ass in two weeks. Who knows what kind of trouble you’ve gotten into since then.”
He smirks. “Surprisingly, I haven’t gotten into any trouble this time. I just came to check up on my big bro.”
I’m not sure what disbelieving look I throw his way, but he rolls his eyes.
“Seriously, Chris. You’ve got to learn to trust me.”
“Two months ago, you went to Ibiza and got so fucking trashed that you woke up in front of a police station with coke under your nose and no memory of how you got there. I’ll trust you when the sun stops shining every day.”
“That wasn’t my finest moment,” Topher admits with a shrug.
“I’m about to wring your neck if you don’t tell me what debauchery you’ve gotten into this time,” I warn.
“I told you I didn’t do anything,” Topher says defensively. “I just came here to check up on you.”
