Page 53

PROLOGUE

“ I sn’t she pretty, Raoul?” Mother stands beside me, with the rest of our family, as we prepare to greet the Quinnells at the front of the house.

She’s right, Briella Quinn is beautiful, with her perfect pale skin, curly hair the color of flames, and freckles that match; she really is a rare beauty.

But she isn’t Evelyn Lane.

“It’s a pleasure to have you here.” My father extends his hand to Brian Quinn, the Irish mobster who he’s determined to form an alliance.

So determined that he’s prepared to offer up his eldest son's freedom. My freedom. Being heir to the family that has been running the southern coast for the past fifty years comes with a price.

“This is my wife, Mariella, and my eldest son, Raoul.” When Father introduces me, I make sure to give Quinnell’s hand a firm shake, exactly like I’ve been taught.

A handshake says a lot about a man, apparently, and Burlusconi men don’t give out weak handshakes.

“My other son, Rhett.” Father moves on to my brother, who extends his hand as he steps forward, and looks over the Quinnell girl hungrily.

Maybe, since she is to be my wife, it should bother me, but it doesn’t.

I don’t feel the same anger as I do when he gives his attention to Evelyn.

The last time we played together, he chased her and pinned her to the floor.

I pounded him so hard that I made him bleed, then Father gave me a pounding back for it.

Because that’s another thing Burlusconi men don’t do. We never fight each other.

“And my daughter, Violeta.” He continues moving down the line to where the nanny urges my little sister forward, and she curtsies at the man like he’s some kind of royalty.

Briella looks at me shyly, and I nod her a greeting. I have no idea how she feels about our parents’ arrangement, or if she even knows about it yet.

“Please come in and make yourself at home. I bet you're hungry.” Mother takes Briella by the hand and starts to lead her inside the house, and the rest of us follow.

“We can discuss business after we eat,” Father pats Brian Quinnell on his shoulder. “Tonight is a special night. My son becomes a man, and you get to witness it,” he promises.

“So, is she beautiful?” Evelyn asks me, pushing her legs out so the swing I built for her in the tree near the lake goes higher.

Flying through the air makes her smile, and I like the way happiness looks on her.

It’s a shame I can’t stay with her for long.

Soon, someone back at the house will notice I’m missing, and I’ll get in trouble for leaving while we have such important guests.

But when I saw her out here by herself, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be alone with her.

Evelyn and her mother live on my family estate; they have done so since she was seven years old and her father started to work for mine. His loyalty to our family is the reason he died a few years ago, and my father sees that they are taken care of now.

I shrug my shoulders, scuffing my shoe a little deeper into the ground.

Just lately, I find myself constantly angry when I’m around Evelyn, and my frustration seems to grow each time I see her.

The girl’s so beautiful that sometimes it hurts me just to look at her, and I swear she gets prettier every time I see her.

The boys at school are starting to notice her the same way I do now, and I fucking hate it.

I thought about asking my father to stop paying her tuition fees so she wouldn’t attend the same private school as me and Rhett.

But after consideration, I realized I was being selfish.

Evelyn deserves a good education; she shouldn't have to suffer because of my jealousy. Besides, I wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on her if she went to a regular high school.

“You should hear the way she speaks, it's funny.” I crouch down to the water’s edge and snap one of the lotus flowers from its stem.

“You talka funny too,” Evelyn over exaggerates the slight accent I’ve inherited from my parents, then giggles as she jumps off the swing while it’s in mid-air. My arms automatically reach out to break her fall, but she lands in front of me and balances herself just fine without my help.

“You gonna kiss her?” she asks, the smile on her face suggesting the idea might excite her.

“No,” I shake my head back at her, frustrated. The fact that she’s comfortable with me kissing another girl pisses me off. The thought of her kissing anyone but me makes me want to hurt something.

“Are you scared?” She nudges me playfully, and despite being irritated with her, I take the flower in my hand and tuck it behind her ear. It looks much prettier there than it did on the lake.

“Why would I be scared?” I stare deep into her pretty blue eyes, sometimes I think Evelyn forgets who I am. I’m not a regular teenager; I don't get to be afraid of something as simple as a kiss.

“Raoul, a first kiss is a huge deal. It has to be perfect,” she explains, touching her fingertips to the petals I put in her hair and beaming back at me.

“How would you know, you ever been kissed?” Even though the thought repulses me, it’s my turn to tease now. I know how much Evelyn hates it when I tease her, and if it makes her feel just a shred of the frustration I get when I’m around her, it’s the least she deserves.

“No, but I've thought about it plenty.” She rubs her dusky pink lips together, and suddenly, they become the only thing I can focus on.

“A first kiss should be soft and gentle, a moment that two people remember for the rest of their lives. A memory that will always bind them.” Her voice turns soft, her eyes turning dreamy, and I get the overwhelming urge to drag her onto me and make that memory of hers bound to me.

But I don’t.

Doesn’t matter how many times I’ve thought about it. I can never bring myself to do it. Maybe a kiss scares me after all.

“I gotta go, my father’s taking me out with Mr. Quinnell tonight.”

I back away from her and watch her smile fade, the same way it always does when she’s reminded of the life I’m from. Her father’s death hit her and her mom hard. They know what my family does; they’ve paid the ultimate price for it.

“Be safe, Raoul.” Evelyn offers me a sad smile in place of her bright one, and I feel it cut through me like a knife as I turn my back on her and run back to the house.

“You know why you're here, son. Tonight, you become a man.” Father places the gun in my hand, and I do everything in my power to prevent it from shaking. For a long time, I’ve known this day was coming.

I’ve prepared myself for it. But now that I’m actually here, I’m nervous.

I can't let my father down; our family's reputation is everything to him.

“Ye good, lad?” Quinnell asks, squeezing my shoulder in his heavy hand.

“I’m good,” I assure them both before nodding at my father's consigliere, Ludo, to open the door into the basement.

The ranch is the place where all the Burlusconi dirty work happens, and this is the first time Father’s ever brought me here.

For years, I’ve only ever known of its existence.

Myself and Rhett have talked about what it would be like, and now that I’ve finally made it here, it’s time for me to be the man my father wants me to be.

Suddenly, I know how football players must feel when they step out into the stadium. The only difference is I’m not being watched by thousands, just by my father and the man he wants to impress.

I slowly follow Ludo down the stairs, with my father and Quinnell close behind.

The sound of dripping water echoes off the cold, damp walls, and I see my target a few meters in front of me.

He looks around the same age as my father, and is tied to a chair that’s surrounded by plastic sheets in the middle of the basement floor.

I thought they only did that kinda shit in movies.

The man is gagged, and I can see the fear straining in his eyes as he muffles against the rag that’s stuffed inside his mouth.

“Aim right between the eyes,” Father instructs me. “You know how to use the weapon, son. Ludo tells me your aim is exceptional.” He encourages me and uses the opportunity to boast to Quinnell. He’s all about that two birds and one stone shit.

I take a breath and hold the gun out in front of me. Eying my target down the barrel just like I’ve been taught.

“What did he do?” I ask, looking back at my father, it feels like the kind of thing I should know before I pull the trigger and end the man’s life.

“He threatened to fuck your mother in her ass while you and your brother watched,” he explains, looking at the man over my shoulder with hate in his eyes and venom in his tone. “And then he said he would do the same to your sister.”

It’s all I need to hear, and when I turn back around to face the piece of shit, I don’t hesitate in firing off the shot.

The bullet slices into the man’s throat, blood sprays onto the plastic, and splatters the shirt I’m wearing.

It feels warm against my skin, and his cries of agony rattle my chest.

“Take another shot, lad, it’s normal to miss with ya first. Nerves can get the best of all of us,” Quinnell encourages me, but I ignore him, dropping the gun to the floor, then stepping closer to the man who thought he could threaten my family.

“I didn’t miss,” I respond to Quinnell, while staring the dying asshole right through his terrified pupils. “I shot him in his jugular, a bullet in the brain was too kind for this bastard. I want to watch him choke on his own blood.”

I stand and watch the blood drain from his body, and the life flicker out of his eyes. I feel no remorse, I hold no empathy, and that’s when I realize that I am a true Burlusconi.

I was chosen to be born first for this very reason. And I must carry on my family name, no matter how great the sacrifice.

“Good job, son,” Father pats the back of my head proudly. “You see, my friend, one day my boy will rule the world, and your daughter will be his queen,” he promises Quinnell. “His training will begin tomorrow when he leaves for Sicily with Ludo.”

It’s something I knew was coming; I just didn’t realize it would happen so soon. I still have two years left in high school. I thought my training would start after I graduated, but as Father constantly reminds me, with great power comes great responsibility.

This is mine.

When we get home later that night, Father and Quinnell head straight to his study for a drink. I have no idea what time Ludo plans on leaving in the morning, so instead of going for a shower like Father told me to, I sneak out the back door and run toward Evelyn's cottage

The place is in darkness when I get there, and I slowly creep to stand beside Evelyn’s bedroom window. It’s open just enough to let in some breeze, and, carefully, I reach through the gap and unhook it from the latch so I can climb inside.

She’s sleeping so soundly, and I admire the way her chest rises and falls while her delicate breaths slip through her lips

Looking down at myself, I notice my hands are still bloody, and my shirt is stained. If she woke up and saw me like this, she’d be petrified of what I’ve become.

She deserves better. She’s everything good with the world, while I’ve become everything that’s corrupted in it.

Evelyn Lane deserves a life that won’t be threatened just because I am the man who loves her.

She stirs, and when her eyes open and she sees me watching her in the darkness, instead of being scared, she smiles.

The dark must shelter her from the blood on my hands because she looks happy to see me.

This will be the last time I get to see her for a while, and for that reason, I don’t fight against the urge to be closer to her.

I step closer, and she doesn’t seem shocked or protest as my face leans toward hers. In fact, she wets those lips again, the exact same way she had earlier by the lake, and I know that I have to be her first.

I can give Evelyn up for the greater good, but I will not give up this moment. I will forever own her first kiss; it will be our memory. And when I’ve lost all that’s decent from my soul, it will be the one good thing I can cherish.

My lips touch hers, and I inhale as her hand reaches into my hair, pressing me tighter to her like she’s scared I’ll stop.

I give her soft, and I give her gentle, just like she's dreamed about. I give her every single emotion that she’s made me feel since she skipped into my life five years ago.

Then, I wonder how something so sweet can taste so bitter when the reality hits me that this isn’t just our first kiss. It’s our last.

I pull away from her slowly, backing up toward the window, and the pain that slashes through my chest brings a tear to my eye. It can’t be real, though, because Burlusconi men don’t cry.

“Sleep well,” I whisper, pulling away and admiring the perfection of her one last time.

“Raoul?” My name sounds so different coming from her lips now, maybe it’s because it feels like it doesn't belong there anymore, or maybe it’s because I like the sound of it so damn much it makes me wish I could be someone else.

“Raoul,” she repeats, laughing nervously before leaping from her bed and racing toward me. She throws her arms around my neck and places another kiss against my lips.

I’m too scared to wrap my arms around her body in case I can never let go of her.

“I love you.” She speaks the words in such a sweet whisper, yet I feel them sizzle on the inside like acid.

I want so much to tell her that I love her, too.

To let her know that I’ve loved her since the moment I first saw her and that there will never be another that I love the same, but when I raise my hand and touch it to her cheek, the moonlight glistens over the red mark my thumb leaves against her skin, and the bile that rises into my throat takes all the words out of me.

I can’t love this girl, and she can’t love me.

This is our moment. Our only moment. And as I turn my back on her and leap back out of her window, I wonder if she’ll ever forgive me for sacrificing her.