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CHAPTER 1

S ix months later

Giulia

Some people find the smell of fresh paint unpleasant, but not me. I love it because it signifies progress, renewal. This building was run down when I bought it. There was black mold on the walls. The floorboards were rotting to where it wasn’t safe to enter some rooms. The city was ready to condemn the place. But, thanks to the considerable bequest my husband unexpectedly made me in his will, I could buy the single-story building and restore it to its former glory.

Most of the work is being done by contractors, but I wanted to put the finishing touches on this room myself. I painted the upper walls and ceiling a pretty blue to mimic a summer sky. For the lower parts and floor, I chose a grassy green. I painted a few animals on one wall. I’m particularly proud of the family of rabbits I just completed. They’re super cute. The younger kids are going to love spending time in here. At least, I hope they will. I have a lot pinned on this place being a success.

When I found out I was going to be financially independent for the first time in my life, I knew immediately I wanted to do something to help my community. The mafia isn’t hot on emotional support or equal opportunities. Some wives and children of the Volante organization’s soldiers have a tough life. This center will be a place where they can come and spend time together socially, and also get advice and counseling if they need it. A lot of mafia women need help to cope with the shit the men in their families heap on them.

As I hear the door closing, I set down my paintbrush and lean out into the corridor to see who’s there. The only person I’m expecting is the carpenter who’s going to make shelves for the office and he’s not due until later.

My heart leaps into my throat as a man who’s very definitely not the carpenter strides into view. Tall and broad-shouldered, he wears an impeccably tailored suit and shoes that cost more than the average person earns in a month. Antonio Volante. There’s only one reason I can think of for the mafia boss to show up here, and it isn’t good. He’s going to shut my project down.

“Mr. Volante.” I step out into the hallway to greet him.

“Antonio.” He doesn’t smile, twisting his lips in a disapproving scowl as his eyes scan over me. I guess he doesn’t like my new hairstyle. “No need to be so formal, Giulia. We’ve known each other a long time. You and my wife are friends.” His frown deepens. “Or is that no longer the case? As I understand it, my wife has tried to call you several times and received no reply.”

Confused, I furrow my brow. That can’t be why he’s here. The boss of one of the biggest crime organizations in the country can’t have tracked me down to tell me off for not answering his wife’s phone calls.

“I meant to call her back. I’ve been busy.”

Antonio arches a skeptical eyebrow. “For five weeks?”

Has it been that long? I guess I knew that. If I’m honest, I’ve been reluctant to speak to her. We haven’t seen each other for more than a year and I worry things will be awkward between us, especially now Matteo and I aren’t friends anymore. He’s her brother-in-law so Isabella may feel her loyalty lies with him rather than me.

“I…”

Before I can come up with an excuse he’ll find acceptable, Antonio waves off my concern with an imperious flick of the wrist. “I’m not here about my wife.”

He walks past me and strolls into the room I’ve just come out of. I follow him and hover aimlessly as he looks around. “This is for my men’s wives to bring their children?”

There’s an edge to his voice that makes my heart sink. It sounds like disapproval.

“Yes.”

“And you’re planning to employ a guidance counselor, a therapist?”

“You approved my plans.” I can’t hide the desperation in my voice as I wonder if he’s going to tell me he’s changed his mind. “You said it was okay.”

Growing up in the mafia, I know how this world works. Before I even spoke to my realtor about this place, I sought permission from Antonio to go ahead with my plans. Everything was run past Dante Parisi, his terrifying right-hand man, in advance. All the contractors I use are mafia-affiliated.

Tears prick my eyes. “I did everything right.”

“I can see that.” Antonio goes to the window and glances out at the small garden I’ve created in the parking lot. “I remember how this place looked before. You’ve done a great job.”

“So you’re not here to shut me down?”

Turning to face me, Antonio smiles tightly. “Not yet.”

Dread sweeps over me at that ominous remark. “Why are you here, Antonio?”

He exhales sharply. “Matteo.”

That catches me off guard. I thought Antonio was well aware his brother and I were no longer friends. The last I heard of Matteo, he was accompanying their sister, Olivia, to Italy. “What about him?”

“He’s been involved in an… incident.”

“Got caught banging some Italian bigwig’s wife in a public restroom, did he?”

Antonio’s lips twitch, but I can’t tell if it’s with amusement or annoyance. The man is remarkably hard to read, but I can’t imagine he approves of Matteo’s antics.

“No, there was a shooting. A girl was killed.”

“Oh, my god.” Now I feel like a complete shit for making light of it. “What happened?”

“I can’t give you details. What I can tell you is that Matteo did not pull the trigger.”

“Okay, so…”

“Why am I telling you this?” He purses his lips as I nod. “Because Matteo is having a… crisis. He refuses to leave Italy.”

“I see.” Actually, I don’t. If Antonio wants his brother to come home, surely all he has to do is issue an order. What has any of this to do with me? “So, what do you want from me?”

“I want you to go to Italy, help him resolve whatever shit he’s going through, and bring him back.”

Unable to hold in my response, I huff out a laugh. “You want me to go to Italy and drag Matteo back? Don’t you have people who’re better equipped for that sort of thing?”

“I do.” Antonio leans back, resting his ass on the windowsill.

I wince. That was painted earlier. I hope it’s dry because his suit probably cost more than I spent decorating this entire room. I don’t think I can afford to replace it.

“So send them.”

“I will, as a last resort. I want to try a gentler approach first.”

Balling up my fists, I rest them on my hips. “What makes you think I’ll be gentle with him?”

Now it’s Antonio who barks out a disbelieving laugh. I guess I’m not known for inflicting violence, but he’s wrong to assume I’m willing to go halfway across the world to coax Matteo out of whatever mood he’s in. I’ve had enough of being taken for a fool.

“You’re one of his oldest friends.”

“I was his friend.”

“One little comment does not cancel two decades of shared history.”

There’s no point in arguing with Antonio. He’d never understand the hurt and betrayal I felt when Matteo laughed at me the day of Johnny’s funeral. Perhaps my reaction has been extreme, but I can’t help it. When I needed him the most, he let me down. I don’t want to see the asshole ever again.

“What about Isabella? She’s his friend. Why don’t you send her?”

Antonio’s jaw clenches. He’s never been entirely at ease with his wife and his brother having a close relationship. Matteo, Isabella, and I became friends at elementary school. Antonio barely noticed his wife existed before she became an adult.

“My wife will not be traveling to Italy.” He fixes me with an intense stare. “Look, Giulia, I’ll be honest with you. I think you are what he needs, so you will do as I ask. You will travel to Italy on my private jet, drinking champagne and being waited on by my attentive staff. You will stay in a luxurious villa in the most beautiful part of the country and enjoy the finest hospitality. I will even ensure this place is looked after until you return.”

The offer he’s making is a tempting one, but I can’t help wondering what the alternative is. “And if I refuse?”

“Well, this place doesn’t have to open.” Antonio smiles grimly. “It would be a shame if all your good intentions went to waste.”

I suck in a breath, but he’s not finished with the threats yet.

“And I could tell your father and stepmother I changed my mind about them leaving you alone after Lombardi’s death. I could tell them to start looking for another husband for you.”

“But I don’t live with them anymore. I have my own money now.”

Antonio looks at me as if I’m a na?ve child. “You think any of that matters?”

No, I don’t. The only reason my dad and Valeria allowed me to move into my own apartment and haven’t already forced me into a new marriage arrangement is that Antonio told them to back off. He insisted they gave me time to get over what happened with Johnny. Somewhere at the back of my mind, I guess I knew my newfound freedom was an illusion. My money only bought temporary autonomy. Where the mafia’s concerned, it doesn’t matter. I could be a billionaire, but I’d still have to live within the rules of this fucked-up world my great-grandfather dragged our family into when he pledged allegiance to the Volantes.

Tears burn my eyes as Antonio stalks closer. I blink them back, but it’s too late. He’s seen them.

“No need to cry, Giulia.” There’s a flash of something like regret on his face, but he quickly masks it. “None of this needs to be a hardship for you. Bring Matteo back and I will ensure you can follow your dreams. Get him back within a week and I’ll throw in a generous donation to this place.”

He holds my gaze. At first I remain defiant, but I’m no match for the harshness in his eyes. I soon cave. “When do I leave?”

“Dante will pick you up in two hours and drive you to the airport. Tell him what needs to be done here and he’ll see to it.”

“Okay.” I hate how defeated I sound.

“You might want to clean up first,” Antonio says. “You have paint on your nose.”

As he walks away, I snort in disbelief. Paint on my nose? That’s the least of my worries. I fear I’ve been given an impossible task. Antonio knows as well as I do that it will take more than gentle persuasion to wrangle Matteo onto a plane. Once he’s dug in, it’s extremely difficult to change his mind.

A stab of fear pierces deep. What if I fail? Displeasing the head of the Volante organization would be a spectacularly bad idea. Am I going to lose everything I worked so hard to achieve?

No. I strengthen my resolve. I will get Matteo back to New York by whatever means necessary. If I have to drag him here by the balls, then so be it.