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The bosses of the five families sat like statues in the front row. My cousins, my friends, my family, each of them too young to see so much death.

Then again, so was I.

I was in college.

But the mafia doesn't care how old you are, how young, how good, how evil. It just…is.

It runs through my veins like the very blood that I know will always be spilled in the name of power, greed, control.

I cleared my throat. “We’re here to mourn the tragic passing of my—“ I caught myself. "My faithful bodyguard, Louis Santorini.”

The man who promised he’d always save me, in more ways than one.

The man who loved me.

The man who was never supposed to touch me.

The church doors creaked open.

Nobody turned.

But I saw him. I locked eyes with him.

I saw him clear as day.

Ace De Lange.

He didn’t flinch, didn’t as much as look away.

I hated the way my pulse picked up, it was nothing more than rage at his carelessness, because how dare he show up and just stare at me at my worst.

The fact that he was even standing there was an insult to Louis’ memory.

He could never be replaced. Never will be.

Focus on the man who truly cared for you—loved you.

The one who kept you alive when you needed it most.

Not the one who walked in like he actually belonged.

Not the one whose family was more likely than anyones to have killed Louis.

Ace had sworn to protect the Alfero family at all costs—mainly my dad.

Well, it cost something, didn’t it? It always did.

A long time ago he promised to stay by my side after I was kidnapped only to leave the minute the De Langes needed him in Italy.

And now he was back as if the trauma of him leaving didn’t matter. He’d been a pivotal part of my teen years, we’d welcomed him and his trauma with open arms. And then he was just gone as if the blood, sweat, and tears meant absolutely nothing.

As if I had meant nothing.

I hoped he liked the destruction he left in his wake. Louis helped put the pieces Ace trampled all over back together again. It was my fault for having a one sided crush—never again. Maybe he’d still be alive if he wasn’t so focused on me that day.

In the end, I didn’t blame myself.

No, in the end…