Page 1 of Unforgiving Queen

PROLOGUE

AMON, 12 YEARS OLD

“It was me.” I stepped forward, Dante by my side, as we claimed responsibility for the broken fifteenth-century vase that Father took great pride in.

The little girl stared at my father with wide eyes, her gaze darting from me to him, then back to me. Her golden curls bounced left and right, fear evident on her face. My father had barely glanced at her and her sister, yet the two of them shook with fear.

They must not get in trouble very often.

“What’s going on here, Leone?” The man I knew to be Tomaso Romero showed up with his wife, the latter rushing to the girls’ side. The pair were almost identical, except one had dark hair like her father and the other was the mirror-image of her mother, with sunflower-yellow locks.

Father didn’t acknowledge him, his eyes drilling into my brother and me. Could he read the truth in our eyes? I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that I couldn’t let him hurt these girls.

“Angelo,” Romero snapped.

Father’s eyes moved to the man with lethal calm. “Nothing. You, your wife, and your brats can go,” he stated in English.

The girls’ mother didn’t hesitate. She took the girls and ushered them away.

“You fucking—” Tomaso Romero waspissed.His face turned red and he reached for his gun, secured in the holster. As did Father.

“Tomaso.” The girls’ mother seemed desperate to get out, but Romero refused to move. His gaze locked with Father’s, neither one of them willing to budge. “Tomaso, let’s go home,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she nodded toward the girls.

The one with wheat-colored curls locked eyes with me, worry filling her gaze. “Papà, can we take them home?”

Romero glanced down, following her gaze to Dante and me. His eyes came to rest on Dante for a fraction of a second before settling on me.

“I’m sorry, sunshine. We can’t.” He finally broke his lingering stare to address his daughter.

The girl pursed her lips. “But I don’t want to leave them, Papà. Please.”

My mom appeared in the hallway, her footsteps soft against the marble. “Angelo, I didn’t know we were hosting a party. I wouldn’t have gone to pray if I had.”

She took in the scene in front of her. Could she sense the tension? An expression I didn’t understand passed her eyes, but I didn’t get the chance to read into it before—

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was cold as ice. Why was she speaking to Romero this way? I’d never heard her take such a bitter tone before, not when Father was mean to her and especially not with guests in our home. Mamma’s eyes traveled over his wife and children, something resembling hate flickering in them.

“Regretting ever stepping foot in this fucking home.”

“Tomaso!” The way the man’s wife scolded him made me think she’d never heard him utter a single curse before.

The girl with dark hair tugged on his sleeve and motioned her hands. What was she doing?

“No, we can’t go back to California,” Romero answered. It dawned on me that she must be deaf. I’d seen a movie with an actor who used sign language before. “Now, let’s go,” he instructed.

The little girl with golden curls yanked her hand from her mamma and ran over to me, hugging me like I was her lifeline.

I stood stiffly, unfamiliar with this kind of affection from strangers. She hugged me tighter and I had to stifle a pained wince from the beating Dante and I had received last week as part of our training.

“Are you going to be okay?” she whispered while the bruises covering my back and torso throbbed from my last week’s beating. How could it be that a simple hug from a girl I’d just met made the pain feel better? It was all too confusing.

Her papà came over and gently tugged the girl away. The moment she stepped back, the feeling of loss washed over me and I swayed on my feet.

“Stay away from my family and my kids,” Romero muttered under his breath. Whether his threat was directed at me or my father, I would never know for sure.

With the Romero family out of sight and earshot, Father turned to my brother and me. “You two will get a treat today.” He smiled coldly. “Nobody disrespects me in my own home.”

He flicked his gaze over our heads and dipped his chin. Two of his guards stepped forward from the shadows and exchanged words with him in English before dragging us away.