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Present

T he Scarfo-Falcone wedding is a spectacle of wealth.

The reception takes place in a sprawling villa on the cliffs, the Mediterranean glittering dark and endless beyond the terrace.

The guest list is a who’s who of the underworld—bosses, heirs, and enforcers draped in silk and armed to the teeth beneath their suits.

It’s a show of unity, but the air is thick with tension.

Because this marriage isn’t about love. It’s about power.

Lucia Scarfo, the precious daughter of Sal Scarfo, has been bound to Rocco Falcone, the hot-tempered heir to the Falcone empire.

And their union could tip the balance between the four families.

At my table, Uncle Leo sits at the head, flanked by his most trusted men, his salt-and-pepper hair sleek, his suit crisp.

He’s sipping whiskey, eyes sharp as he watches Sal and his wife toast their son and daughter-in-law.

“Enjoying yourself, mia nipote?” he asks without looking at me.

I give a slow, unimpressed glance around the room. “Riveting.”

He smirks. “You always were hard to please.”

I drain the last of my champagne and push up from my seat. “I should make the rounds, see who’s still breathing.”

Leo chuckles, tipping his glass. “Play nice.”

I don’t bother responding.

The air hums with low conversations as I weave through the tables. Every step in this room is a careful dance—smiles edged with steel, laughter disguising negotiations.

At the bar, Adriano Marino, one of Rocco’s right-hand men, leans against the counter, his tie already loosened, his dark eyes tracking me like a hunter sizing up prey. In any other setting he’d be brutally handsome.

“Evany.” His voice is warm, inviting. “You’re looking particularly lethal tonight.”

I arch a brow, accepting the fresh glass of champagne the bartender sets in front of me. “And you’re looking particularly desperate.”

His lips curve. “Desperate? No, just observant. I heard about your little… incident last week.”

I take a slow sip. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

He laughs. “Come on, don’t play coy. Word is, you left some solider bleeding out like a gutted pig.”

I tilt my head. “Is that what they’re saying?”

“I also heard you didn’t even break a sweat.”

I let the silence stretch, watching the way his fingers tighten around his glass. He wants me to confirm it, to give him something to carry back to his boss.

Instead, I set my champagne down and lean in slightly. “Be careful what rumors you spread, Adriano. Sometimes, they come true.”

His throat bobs. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

I give him a slow, knowing smile before turning away.

At a center table, Lucia Scarfo sits with a group of other young women, her wedding ring glinting under the golden lights.

Her expression is composed, regal even, but her fingers twist in her lap.

The relationship between the female family members is a different beast. We’re royalty but also property.

Needed but disposable. Except me. I’d made sure Uncle Leo saw how capable I was.

I needed action and responsibilities not vacations, sex, and parties.

The women in the families are never in line for Boss, therefore to me, they aren’t a threat.

“Lucia,” I greet smoothly, sliding into the seat beside her.

Her eyes flick to mine, a polite smile appearing. “Evany. I was beginning to think you’d ignore me all night.”

“I’d never dream of it.” I glance toward the dance floor, where her new husband is laughing too loudly with his men, already a few drinks deep. Women rubbing all over the lot of them. “Rocco looks… pleased.”

Her smile tightens. “He’s celebrating.”

“Of course. It’s not every day a man gets gifted an empire.”

Lucia inhales slowly, her fingers stilling. “And what about you, Evany? Any plans to settle down?”

I exhale a quiet laugh. “And let some man put a ring on my finger so he can feel powerful? No, thanks.”

Lucia hums. “I used to think the same.”

I study her, the fine tension in her posture, the way her gaze flits toward the exit like she’s already looking for escape routes. She was raised in this world, bred for this moment—but that doesn’t mean she wants it. They never want it. We’re all captive in one way or another.

I lean in, lowering my voice. “I hear the Falcones like their women obedient. If that’s true, you’re going to be a disappointment.”

For the first time tonight, real amusement flickers in her eyes. “Then maybe they should have done their research.”

I grin. “If you ever need… a favor, let me know.”

Lucia holds my gaze for a beat longer before nodding. It’s not acceptance. Not yet. But the seed has been planted.

I stand and make my way back toward Leo’s table. I smooth my silk dress as I take my seat next to him. His phone vibrates on the table. I watch him glance at the screen—face morphing in annoyance.

Then, without shifting his gaze, he murmurs, “There’s a situation at the warehouse. Handle it.”

I exhale through my nose. A wedding full of backstabbing criminals, and he’s sending me to deal with some bullshit at the docks.

But I don’t argue. I just rise and step silently away from the glittering crowd.

The car is waiting when I step outside and drops me where I am needed.

The warehouse is dimly lit, the scent of salt and steel thick in the air. It’s quiet except for the occasional clang of metal and the rhythmic clicks of my stilettos.

I step into the back room.

A man sits bound to a chair, his head caught between the iron jaws of a vice bolted to a steel table. His face is slick with sweat, veins bulging in his neck as the pressure builds. Blood drips from his nose, his split lip, staining his collar.

Beside him, one of Leo’s men—Cruz—leans against the table, expression bored.

“Caught him dealing in our territory. Right under your nose.” His gaze flicks to me, challenging. “Brought him here as a courtesy.”

This does not look good. I’ve slipped. Been called out. I roll my shoulders to relieve the stress building.

Leo’s men tolerate me because they have to, but they like to remind me that I have something to prove.

I step closer, dragging a gloved finger through the blood on the man’s cheek. “And?”

Cruz shrugs. “Figured we’d let you handle it.”

The man jerks against his restraints, wild eyes darting between us. “I—I didn’t know it was your territory! I swear! I just—I saw the jewels at the docks. Thought I could—” His words choke off as Cruz tightens the vice another notch.

Cruz watches me. Waiting.

I grip the handle of the vice, twisting it ever so slowly. The man whimpers, his breath hitching.

“You saw them where?” My voice is soft. Almost bored.

“An open shipping container—some crates were open. I saw diamonds. Didn’t think.” His breath shudders. “I—I was just trying to unload them! Didn’t even know it was yours!”

I study him. Just some dumb street thief who got too greedy. No ties to the families. No real threat.

But that doesn’t matter.

I grip the handle again. Twist.

A strangled sob leaves his throat as the vice grinds his skull.

“Who did you try to sell them to?”

“I—” His voice breaks. “Some guy in Little Havana. Goes by Nico. Please—I swear, I won’t”

I release the handle. Step back.

He’s talking.

Cruz’s lips twitch, almost like he’s impressed. “So? What do we do with him?”

I glance down at the trembling man, considering. Letting him live sends a message—that ignorance can be used as an excuse. But if I make an example of him… well. It sends a stronger one.

I reach into my clutch and pull out a sleek blade, twirling it between my fingers. The man’s breath turns ragged.

“Please,” he whispers.

I crouch beside him, tilting my head. “Do you believe in mercy?”

His throat bobs. “Y-yes?”

I press the blade to his cheek, just enough to break the skin. “Then pray that I do too.”

The silence stretches.

Then I stand, wiping the blade clean on his sleeve.

Cruz smirks, pushing off the table. “I’ll take care of it.”

I don’t have to ask what that means.

I step out of the warehouse, the humid night wrapping around me. The wedding is probably still in full swing, alliances being forged over champagne and false smiles. My footsteps echo as I move down the alley, where shadows coil like snakes around the shipping containers.

The night smells of rot and rust.