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ADALYN

To say I was a nervous wreck was an understatement.

The biggest understatement of the fucking century.

I had been just about ready to duck and roll right out of the cathedral when the ornate wooden doors had swung back, revealing the masses of people congregated inside and watching my every move. If it hadn’t been for Eliyana’s gentle grip on my hand and the fact that I didn’t know Sicily half as well as I should have by now, then I would have given into my crippling fear and rolled the hell back out the doors.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I focused on keeping one foot in front of the other until Marco’s handsome face came into view. The moment I met him at the end of the alter, happiness replaced my anxiety and everyone else seemed to slip away. Leaving only the two of us captivated entirely by our love for each other.

I had gasped in awe when we’d arrived at the villa for our reception. The wedding planners had done a magnificent job. The large, ornate villa looked more like a palace than I would have ever thought possible and boasted more marble columns than I had ever seen. It was beautiful and sophisticated, yet simple and elegant. It wove the expected La Torre opulence with my more modest tastes seamlessly, and I was overjoyed with how everything had turned out.

It wasn’t long before the celebrations began after dinner and once again, my nerves had my stomach clenched with unease and anxiety spiking in my system. More guests had arrived for the evening, and I internally cursed myself for wearing such god-forsaken high heels for the day. Dancing in front of that many people would have been nerve-wracking enough in sneakers rather than the sky-high heels I was sporting for our first dance.

“Why are you concentrating so much?” Marco—my Husband —had asked me as we swirled gently across the dance floor.

Unlike me, Marco moved effortlessly. Lucky bastard.

“I am just trying not to break anything. Damn shoes.” I muttered, my attention caught between my balance and not getting my heel hooked on the dress.

He just laughed and held me tighter, supporting some of my weight and relieving the pressure off my toes.

While I enjoyed having a moment alone with my new husband after the craziness of the day, I was still relieved when the dance was over and I was no longer at the center of a ballroom packed full of people.

We went around greeting guests together for a while and afterwards I sat with Eliyana and Marco’s aunt Catarina. They were both a little louder than usual, having commenced their celebrations earlier than the other guests.

Apparently, the canapés, a four-course meal, and a slice of wedding cake had done little to slow down their alcohol-induced buzz and my anxiety was diminishing rapidly in their amusing company. We danced, talked about Marco’s childhood, and joked about the various men of the family.

I slowly sipped at my second glass of water for the night. My nerves had been all over the place for most of the week and my stomach had been tempestuous at best all day. Making alcohol a bad mix, and eating food certainly hadn’t helped.

I glanced up from the table and looked around the room, my eyes searching for Marco’s familiar dark features amongst the crowd. It had been some time since I saw him last.

It was only then that it hit me that something was wrong.

Very wrong.

The numerous security personnel that had lined the entirety of the room for the evening were gone. Only four remained now and they were gathered by the main doors, frowns etched into their faces as they hunched in muted discussion. The older men of the family, including Benny and Marco’s Uncle Leonardo were stood off to one side and engaged in tense, albeit heated, discussions.

The tension in the air had escaped the attention of most of the less involved guests in attendance or those who were too intoxicated to notice…but it was obvious for anyone who dared enough to look.

Panic started to latch itself onto my chest and I rose from my seat, looking about the room for Marco.

He’s not here.

Nor was Jesse, Alonso, Tom or any of the others.

Before I knew it, I was half-way across the room.

“Benny! What is going on?” I questioned, approaching the man whose shoulders were taut as another man spoke with him.

He looked warily from the unfamiliar man to me, but he didn’t say anything, his mouth settling in a grim line almost as if contemplating how much to say.

“Tell me, now! Where is Marco?” I demanded, fear and panic leaking into my voice.

The older man let out a short sigh, “There has been a… confrontation at the gate. It is being dealt with as we speak.”

Confrontation.

Fear dripped down my spine.

I immediately knew that my family were not behind it.

My family were not callous enough or naive enough to attack on Sicilian soil. The heart of the La Torre family dynasty. My father was a proud man that hated being outsmarted, but he wouldn’t have sent his people into a slaughter.

No.

This attack did not sit within the constraints of reason and certainly wasn’t the product of exceptional, unrivalled power. This attack was reactive and crude in design. A product of hatred or some other emotion that questioned the boundaries of sanity… and could only mean one thing.

He’s here.

A whisper of panic shuddered violently through me.

Flashes of Marco and Ricardo standing opposite one another with weapons drawn had me instantly racing toward the grand double doors, heavily guarded by unfamiliar men. One of the burlier ones intercepted me as I approached, holding up a hand in front of him placatingly, while the other rested on his gun.

“No one is to leave this room, Ma’am. It isn’t safe,” The six-foot-something Italian man said as I slowed, switching over to English.

“My Husband is out there. Let me out. NOW!” I ordered, making a move to go past him.

In truth, I didn’t know whether Marco’s men would listen to an order from his new wife, but fear was making me desperate.

An outstretched arm barred me from moving any further and I glared up at the man who couldn’t have been much older than me with a look of pure outrage.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. Don La Torre has ordered that no one, especially you are to leave this room.”

My teeth snapped together in frustration.

I knew Marco was trying to protect me by keeping me here. I knew that and yet…rejection had me sucking in a heavier breath of air. He had never shut me out before, and regardless of whether or not it was for a good reason, now was not going to become the exception to that rule.

I had had enough of being shut out by my own family and that certainly wasn’t going to repeat itself within my new one. Regardless of whether it put me in danger or not, I needed to be part of this.

I would not be shut out anymore.

Marco didn’t know the kind of man Thrasher was as well as I did, or what he was truly capable of. The fact that he was here meant that not only was he a fool—he was desperate. Desperate men were always the most dangerous.

Thrasher might have nothing to lose—but I did.

I need a plan.

I turned on my heel and as calmly as possible, careful to avoid bringing any further attention to myself and attempted to disappear back into the swarm of guests.

Forcing myself to slow my steps, I wandered over to the now vacant table Jesse had occupied with a few of the others for the evening. I slid into his chair for the night after recognizing his familiar black jacket slung across it. I placed my hands against the table and forced myself to breathe. To think . Think of something.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Benny and the others turned toward me from across the room.

They’re watching .

It wasn’t all that surprising. Benny knew me better than to just assume I would be content sitting on the sidelines…

I picked up Jesse’s discarded flute of champagne and took a slow swig, while subtly, underneath the table, working my hand around to the back of the chair. I weaved my hands between the material of his jacket until my fingertips slipped against smooth silk. I felt around a moment, seeking the interior pocket I knew he always kept his keys in. I dug my nails down into the pocket and relief flooded my stomach when they hit something hard.

I made quick work of pulling them free of the pocket and onto my lap, before replacing his glass on the table.

I wasn’t a fool. I knew I wouldn’t be much help to Marco or anyone else in this family if there was a fight. As much as that thought irked me, it was the ungracious truth of my situation. I wasn’t physically strong enough, trained or experienced enough to make a damn difference on a physical level.

But I had to do something .

I might not be hard, tough or bullet-proof…but Jesse’s G-Wagon certainly was. While I might not be able to do anything when faced with a lunatic man with a gun, Jesse’s car certainly could. It wasn’t much of a plan, running over a Mexican drug lord, but it was all I had.

I just needed to get out of this damn hall and preferably be armed when I did it.

I didn’t have to check Jesse’s jacket again for any signs of a weapon. I could tell from the weight of it that whatever firearm he’d had was most probably with him.

Forcing myself to appear calm, I hooked the keyring over my finger and hid the rest in my palm as I got back to my feet.

I headed swiftly past two nearby tables, searching for any firearms laying around unattended. Finally, after a few seconds of looking across the expanse of room, I found one of Marco’s distant cousins, a man who I had only met once when Eliyana introduced us at the restaurant, passed out cold with drool creeping down his chin. His handgun rested against his waist, obvious despite the distance between us.

I calmly stalked over to him, then feigned finding something on the floor beside him. I quickly dropped to a crouch and slid the gun free of the holster, his snores not so much as stuttering with the sudden change in weight.

Not a well-trained Mafioso. I observed, grateful for his apparent alcohol-induced coma.

I unclicked the mag and slid it out to check the bullets. Fully loaded. Thank the goddamn Lord … Then I slid it back into place and cocked it.

Adrenaline began making my hands more frantic as I gathered the material of my dress until the blue garter at the top of my thigh came into view. I slid the bitterly cold metal against my skin, fighting the flinch as I quickly pulled my skirts back into position and got to my feet. The unforgiving metal now pressed firmly against my thigh and stored securely out of sight.

Without a second of hesitation, I ducked into the nearby hallway leading to the toilets and a back stairway. Once out of view, I ran down the corridor and silently prayed there would be an emergency exit of some sort that could get me outside.

I need to get to the car. NOW.

I all but screamed in frustration when I was confronted with nothing but a window. I threw myself against it and fought against the lock, shaking the godforsaken pane to try and wiggle it free.

“Adalyn?”

My hands stilled on the against the frame, and I turned toward the source of the voice. Biting back my sigh of bitter irritation.

Sofia.

Who the fuck let her in?

As if reading my distaste, the beautiful brunette held up her hands in a placating gesture. “My Mamma insisted I come as her plus one.”

Did I care? No. And did I want this discussion right now? Also no.

I needed to get outside. NOW.

“Look Sofia, I really don’t care about this right now.” I swiped away the sweat starting to gather on my forehead, the adrenaline making standing still feel unbearable. “I’ve got to get outside,” I muttered, turning back to the window and trying the pane again.

“Why?” I heard her ask, barely audible over my puffing as I shoved and pulled at the window with my full strength.

“There’s something going on outside and I need to get out. NOW!” I shouted, slapping my hands against my thighs. Frustration and desperation were making my temper flare as helplessness settled in.

I heard the click of heels as Sofia approached the window beside me and also tried pulling at the ancient wood. She gave up after a second and then reached a hand up to her hair, pulling out a pin that allowed her curls to fall free. I watched as she wiggled the pin into the lock, freeing up space enough to create leverage for the pane to slide free.

What is happening right now? Why is she helping me?

Her dark eyes met mine and she shrugged gently. “I wouldn’t want to be married to someone that shuts me out of the important stuff either. I get it.”

I swallowed hard against the ghost of pain that danced in my chest.

Now really isn’t the time , I reminded myself.

I shook it off and sprung into action, pulling up the infuriatingly intricate layers of my dress and bunching them in one hand. I all but hauled myself through the window, landing ungracefully on the stones on the other side.

The night air was silent sans my steps crunching against the gravel. No gunfire or shouting . I didn’t know what that meant…or what I might find as a result of it.

My footsteps echoed loudly as I stepped away and turned toward where I assumed the guests’ vehicles were parked for the night.

“Where are you going?” Sofia called, climbing out through the window and scrambling to find her footing on the stones.

Why the hell is she following me?

“Car.” I grunted, not stopping a beat for the insolent party crasher.

“You’re going the long way.” She called. “There’s a shortcut.”

That had me pausing as I half turned back toward her, desperate for anything that would get me to Marco sooner.

She pointed out across one of the sprawling topiary gardens. “The gardens will get you there quicker. I can get you to it.” She nodded. Almost as if reassuring herself as well as me that she could.

Unease made me hesitate. “Why should I trust you? You hate me.” I pointed out.

She smiled softly and cocked her head to the side. “Guess I’m sick of being overlooked too.” She then sighed dramatically. “You coming or not? I would much rather be hunting for a rebound right now than helping you anyway…”

I sighed. “Fine.”

Ignoring the curdling feeling of distrust in my stomach, I followed after her as she set off through the garden. Her steps confident and measured as we passed by the various bushes. It was as if she knew the place well…which I most certainly did not.

Our steps crunched loudly against the gravel as we followed the pathway. The eerie silence hanging in the air set my teeth on edge.

The thudding of music from the hall was much quieter out here, sounding almost muffled somehow. It was the only thing that disturbed the eerie quiet that enveloped the grounds, and it had me wondering whether the danger had already passed.

Until shouting erupted in the distance.

The sound ringing out someways behind us, the other side of the mansion. It felt like worlds away from where we were, hidden amongst the garden and topiary.

“That’s from the gate!” Sofia shouted.

The panic in her voice mirrored the panic in my chest and we immediately quickened our pace, running along the path as it trailed through the darkness.

Gunfire erupted not a moment later, decimating the night air. Adrenaline leaked into my bloodstream and had me pushing myself to move faster, kicking off my shoes as I ran harder across the stones. The sharp edges of rock nothing but a burning caress as I pulled up the skirts of my dress, lengthening my stride.

“How much longer Sofia?” I demanded, frustrated that her shortcut was starting to feel like the wrong way to the cars entirely.

Wait …

We rounded the corner of a low-lying wall, and I skidded to a stop, the stones tearing against the soles of my feet as I came to an abrupt halt.

Terror .

Sharp, violent, consuming terror crashed through my veins like an excruciating poison.

“Adalyn, my love. I’m so glad you could finally join us.”