Page 5 of One Savage Union

I’m the second most powerful man in the Romano Mafia. Any woman connected to me will have a bigger target on her back than the Willis Tower.

I don’t need that kind of stress in my life. It’s enough to focus on keeping my men and myself alive.

My uncle continues, unbothered by my reaction.

“I want Leo to know that I have the same information about Ricci’s daughter that he has, but that I’m giving her to you and not him. I’m sure that will rile my idiota of a son up enough, to make him sloppy. He will show his entire hand. Then I will kill him.”

I nod, though the weight of everything presses hard on my chest.

I always knew I’d have to marry for the family one day: to build an alliance with one faction or another. But I expected that to be a cold marriage of duty with some girl too naïve ever to make my blood heat.

But Lucia. I haven’t even touched her, and I already want to live inside her.

She’s dangerous.

“Yes, Don. But…” I pause, meeting his eyes. “Is my marriage to the girl really necessary?”

I already know the answer. In our world, everything of value—power, territory, loyalty—is sealed through marriage or blood. Still, I need to hear him say it.

He doesn’t hesitate.

“Yes. You have one week,” he says, his voice sharp and final. “Go back to New York, take Lucia. Marry her. Bring Matteo Ricci to his knees.”

He turns his back on me, walking toward the bar, but I press again.

“And what if Ricci doesn’t care? What if we’re wrong about her? What if marrying her doesn’t move him at all?”

Thomasso stops mid-pour and glances over his shoulder with a smirk—the kind that’s more weapon than expression.

“He hid her, Rocco.” He pours the drink slowly, deliberately. “You don’t bury what you don’t care about.”

He turns, glass in hand, eyes gleaming with that deadly certainty I’ve seen destroy better men.

I nod again, slower this time. There’s no turning back.

Lucia Ricci is now the key to winning a war that’s just begun.

And she’s about to become a Romano.

1

ROCCO

FIVE DAYS LATER

Her image flickers to life —small, fragile, completely unaware.

Lucia Asare.

The Ricci secret. The key. The leverage.

My undoing.

I press two fingers to my lips, eyes fixed on the screen.

She’s humming again. Playing the keys softly, lost in whatever world she still believes in.

And I fucking hate it.