The hole was a little over twenty feet below ground and barely fifty square feet made of steel and brick walls. It wasn’t the size of the hole that was the hell; it was your company in the hole. Tristan always made it a point to know everyone’s worst fears, and in that hole, he ensured you experienced it, psychological or physical, pain and fear, over and over again until you broke. Even being Tristan’s sister wouldn’t save me if I stepped out of line.

  “I said he tried. I never said he succeeded, Tris,” I drawled. Tristan knew better than anyone how skilled a fighter I was. With the classical dance training both Tristan and I had and our ability of perfect mimicry, fighting techniques and moves came easily to us. Not to mention, I was always armed with something, knives, guns, ropes, or any small object that could be easily hidden from an unsuspecting attacker.

  I had been determined to not let Raoul touch me in any way. Not just for the ick factor but because Tristan would have buried his ass six feet under even though the idiot was our half-brother, and that wouldn’t go over well with our father, Bruno Falcone. Raoul was the heir, despite Tristan being the older son.

  Raoul and everyone on this stinking island knew that Tristan and I were the bastard children of the Don or the Capo, as some called him. Our father ensured we carried his last name, Marino, in blatant irreverence to his wife, Silvia Falcone’s, displeasure. However, no one else dared to admit to knowing or even recognizing us as Bruno’s children because Silvia’s wrath was pure evil.

  I had always suspected that Bruno had given us his last name because he resented having to take his wife’s last name. Although Bruno had brutally attained his position as head of the Falcone Crime Family through ruthless violence, he had not been a Falcone. After all, in a blatant campaign to advance his position in the family business, he had killed all six of his competitors. Old Man Falcone had never fathered sons and had only daughters. Bruno had killed every man that the Falcone had tried to marry his eldest daughter to. Finally, in an attempt to stop Bruno’s systematic killing of his best men, Old Man Falcone had given Bruno his eldest daughter in marriage and insisted Bruno take his last name.

  Bruno ruled the island as though he was the pope and had emissaries in every major city in the world.

  The island, a few miles off Rome, made the Vatican look like the slums, and given his powerful reach throughout the world, he had every reason to consider himself the pope. It was said that the streets of the Vatican were paved with gold. Well, Bruno’s island was paved with gold, diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and emeralds, lots and lots of emeralds. Bruno loves green, and he had the obscene wealth to get what he loved.

  Bruno has six legitimate children and any number of illegitimate ones. Seven adult children, besides Tristan and me, had come forward and dared to face Silvia. Everyone suspected that Silvia had all seven mothers killed once she found out about them. However, Tristan and I were the only illegitimate children he took to live on his estate. Everyone suspected that it was because our mother was his true love.

  I was sure that the fact that Tristan was his oldest son played a significant role in our father’s decision to take us in. And now that Tristan was as brutal, as cutthroat, and as imposing as our father, Tristan was Bruno’s clear right-hand man, despite Raoul being the heir and our other brothers also working for the Organization.

  “I told you to stay away from my men.”

  Arrogant much? Again, I wanted to roll my eyes but didn’t dare. The day Bruno died and put Raoul in charge, it would be a bloodbath. Bruno’s lovely, jeweled streets would be flooded with blood because Tristan would never relinquish control to Raoul. And Raoul was too stupid to back down. Bloodbath.

  “I didn’t go near Raoul or your precious men. He came slinking onto my usual running path this morning.” The bastard had been showing up quite frequently whenever I was between assignments, to torment me as though he was in a kindergarten playground with his first crush. Anytime I left my and Tristan’s house, Raoul made a nuisance of himself. Thank God Tristan had continued training me when we moved to Italy, determined that I would be able to protect myself. He was ridiculously paranoid that our enemies would try to get to me, his only known weakness, as Bruno’s enemies had gotten to our mother. So, he shouldn’t be surprised that I kicked Raoul’s ass.

  Usually, I spend less than two weeks every three months at home or whenever my dance troupe was on hiatus between performances. Fortunately, our next performance was in less than a week.

  “So?” Tristan frowned. He really didn’t get what I was saying. To him, Raoul was our brother, so he didn’t get why Raoul being near me was a threat. Don’t get me wrong, Tristan knew that Raoul was a ruthless killer—hell, they all were—but he refused to see what a sick fuck our brother was.

  “You know Raoul thinks he’s God’s gift to women, right? He can’t get it through his thick skull that not every woman, even his sisters, wants his paws on them.”

  Tristan’s frown turned into a full-on scowl with a guttural snarl. His murderous glare had me shivering in fear, even though I knew that he would never hurt me. Shit! Shit! I needed to shut this down real quick before that bloodbath happened in the next hour.

  Damn, I should have kept my mouth shut. I sighed. “Forget I said that,” I murmured and immediately knew that it was going to take a lot more than that to stop Tristan. Although I was Tristan’s only sibling with our mother, it didn’t stop him from being protective of our other sisters as well. There were seven other sisters, legitimate and illegitimate. Tristan never distinguished between them. They were all his sisters. Although I never doubted that our bond was different.

  Tristan was older than all of us at twenty-eight years, while I was the youngest at twenty-two. I was also the only one of my sisters that wasn’t married. So, Tristan should really leave the protection of our sisters to their husbands.

  Their husbands were men that Bruno had a heavy hand in selecting, so much so that our sisters weren’t even required to say, “I do.” He’d tried that with me twice already, and each time I had been able to painfully persuade the men that it would be in their best interest to look elsewhere.

  “Explain,” Tristan all but growled at me.

  “It’s nothing,” I said quickly. “Anyway, with a broken wrist and a few broken fingers, I think Raoul will be keeping his hands to himself from now on.” I kept my voice carefree and upbeat, trying another tactic to defuse the situation. I didn’t bother telling him that Raoul was probably wondering if he would ever use his dick again after I jammed my knee as hard as I could between his legs. Remembering the sharp crunch I heard on administering said knee, my lips twitched as I tried to hold back the sudden impulse to laugh.

  “Explain…what…you…meant,” Tristan said through clenched teeth. He placed his palms on my desk and held my gaze.

  It was impossible to look into those warm expresso eyes so very much like mine and not spill. “Raoul has been forcing our sisters to have sex with him,” I told him softly.

  “That little fucker!” Tristan exploded and made to leave the room.

  “Tris, wait!” I sprinted from my chair and grabbed his hand, trying to stop him. “Their husbands don’t know, Tris. You can’t beat the shit out of him or kill him without them finding out why.” I was forced to speak fast and panicked, even though I knew how important it was to try to calm things down right now. I was feeling anything but calm. If my sisters’ husbands found out, there was no telling how they would react. But what I did know was that they wouldn’t take it out on Raoul. They would be too afraid of Bruno to do that.

  “I’m going to kill that fucker,” Tristan said with chilling certainty.

  “You can’t.” I really wish I didn’t have to stop Tristan. If there was one person who deserved to die, it was Raoul. He was a distinct waste to humanity. “Bruno would kill you even if he agrees with you. And we both know that he won’t agree with you.”

  “It would be fucking worth it.” Tristan was resolute, immobile on the issue. His big body seemed like a block of ice.

  I seriously started to panic. Despite our father and siblings, Tristan was still all I had. Growing up with him always watching out for me, he was more like a father to me than he was my brother. I couldn’t afford to lose him.

  “You have to be smart about this,” I pleaded. “Besides, we have developed a code among us to protect each other. Whenever any of the husbands are sent out to work, we ensure that that sister also has somewhere to be and is surrounded by others until the husband has returned.”

  Tristan’s scowl didn’t abate by even a little. He was still out for blood.

  “It has been working for the past two months,” I muttered defensively.

  “Yes, but for how much longer, Danika? You know damn well that won’t keep Raoul in check for long. And what if he tries with you again?” Tristan breathed in and out deeply, clenching and un-clenching his fist as though the thought of it alone had him wanting to rip Raoul limb to limb. “And why the hell have the sisters not told Bruno?”

  “Get real, Tris. Bruno doesn’t give a damn about his daughters. If he did, he wouldn’t have married them off to such swine. Not one of them cares about their wives or even tries to be faithful.”

  “Now who isn’t being realistic here?” Tristan gripped my shoulders, holding me in place, as though to ensure I listened to him. “There is not one of us in our world who are not animals. We have to be.” He pulled me against him and hugged me close as if he could shield me from everyone. The tattoos peeking out from the collar of his dress shirt were sinister and beautiful at the same time. I knew how brutal Tristan had become, but I had never gotten a reading of “evil” from him. He was a good man even if he refused to believe it.

  I loved being held by my brother. He felt and smelled like safety. Security. Home. I don’t know what I would do without him in my life. I hugged him back just as fiercely.

  “Forget about Raoul,” he murmured soothingly. “I will take care of him. Our world is filled with unforeseen dangers and mishaps. Raoul’s days are numbered,” he promised emphatically.

  “Tris, don’t endanger yourself.” I nestled against him, my head in my favorite place on his shoulder with my face pressed into the warm cavity of his neck. I had no illusions about who he was. However, I still thought that he was the most amazing man ever. I had always compared every man I met to him, and as for the other man who lurked in the shadows of my life, well, I wouldn’t think about that now. However, every other man compared to them always came up lacking.

  That was why, at the ripe old age of twenty-two years old, I had yet to even have a boyfriend, despite my active career and ample opportunities to meet men from all walks of life. Rich, athletic, professional, artistic, attractive, you name it, I have met that man. And yet, no man has measured up to Tristan or the mystery man in my life. Well, he was not quite in my life, but I couldn’t afford to think of him now. Tristan wouldn’t understand if he even suspected.

  “Are you wanting to protect me, sorellina?” he asked softly. “It is my job to protect you.”

  “I won’t be able to bear it if something happens to you,” I whispered. I loved when he called me little sister.

  “Nothing is going to happen to me. But I need you to stop thinking that you’re going to find some damn prince charming to take you out of this life. This is it for us.” His grip tightened around me, and his voice seemed harsher as he held my gaze. “You have to stop daydreaming, Danika.”

  If only he knew how close his assessment was.

  “I need you to stop expecting some fucking fairy tale!” Tristan’s eyes glistened with frustrated agitation.

  “Is that why I can’t leave for work without you sending along three Shaolin monks and four armed men to guard me? Talk about overkill! Even the king of England isn’t so well guarded. Oh right, it’s not about guarding me to keep me alive, is it?” I asked him sardonically as I remembered the reason for my bodyguards, which had been a huge bone of contention between us for years. I tried to pull away from him, but he just held me tighter.

  “It’s about you and our father guarding my virginity until you can sell me to the highest bidder.” I hated the emotional break in my voice, but I couldn’t hide that I was hurting. “How much is my virginity worth nowadays, Tristan? Do you have every mob family salivating for an alliance? And you’re admonishing me about fairy tales? Ha!” I curled my lips, disgusted not only with Tristan and my father but with myself.

  Until this moment, I hadn’t realized what those men guarding me had meant. I had fooled myself into thinking that it was about Tristan’s love for me. Not that I doubted that he loved me. No. Tristan loved me, but he was, first and foremost, a mobster. Family business came first.

  “Do not devalue who you are, sorellina!” he gritted out. “They are not just Shaolin monks; they’re fucking eunuchs.” He stared back at me with cold resolve. “You will say that is overkill because their order is usually celibate. I don’t give a fuck because I will always do what I must to protect you. If it also guards your virtue, I will not apologize for that.”

  I shook my head. Eunuchs! Who the hell did that?! Uri, Dechen, and Tashi had been my shadows since he assigned them to me on my sixteenth birthday.

  “You know the life we were born into,” Tristan continued in a softer voice. His palm at my back was gentle as he petted me in a soothing manner. “It’s time that you stop pretending that you’re not the daughter of a mafia boss. That you’re not the sister of one of the most feared men in Europe.”

  I dropped my forehead to his chest, no longer able to hold his uncompromising stare. Tristan has always been the only person I could look directly in the eye and be certain of the pop-ups I would get. This time was no different. “Why shouldn’t I expect to be treated with respect, to be treated like I’m a human, or to be treated with some dignity?” My voice was muffled against his skin. “Why should I accept those animals that Papa has chosen for me?”

  “I have assisted you in avoiding the matches Bruno made for you, but I wouldn’t help you avoid this next match,” he said quietly.

  I pulled away from him, and he let me.

  I stared up at him, stunned at the swift change in our conversation. It felt as though my heart stopped in my chest. I couldn’t breathe for a solid minute, hoping like hell that I heard him wrong and was misreading his unwavering, no-bullshit gaze. “What are you saying? Has Bruno chosen someone for me?”

  “No.” Tristan didn’t hesitate or look away from me. “I have chosen for you.”

  “Tris! No!” I’m not gonna lie. I felt betrayed in the worst way. Tristan had always supported me and helped me to discourage every mobster that father had chosen for me before. Tristan had been quietly and stealthily supporting me against our father, always.

  “I never explain myself, Danika. You know this,” he said in a harsh voice, edged with anger that I knew was directed at our world. “You are my sister, and I love you. Don’t doubt that. But Bruno has lost patience with you and with me. If you’re not married off soon, he will choose someone for you, and neither you nor I will have a say. And forget Raoul’s unwanted attention, you know he will give you to one of his cronies. They have been circling you like dogs in heat for years, waiting on Bruno’s say-so. I selected your husband for your own good. He is strong and powerful enough to protect you.”

  I took a moment to swallow the instant anger that sprung to my lips and went for sarcasm instead. “Well damn, that sounded like an eloquent explanation to me.” I smirked. “I wonder what pound of flesh the Family gained from this magnificent alliance.” I laughed with sardonic black humor.

  Tristan’s face reddened with a guilty flush.

  I ignored his discomfort and continued my flippancy. “Yeah, that just makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. I’m starting to feel so obedient, submissive, and all-around accommodating,” I drawled. “What do you think, Tris? Aren’t I just the most obedient, submissive, and accommodating woman you’ve ever met?”

  Tristan narrowed his eyes.

  “Seeing that I’m so accommodating, it’s only fair to advise that any man who tries to force himself on me will be gutted,” I told him sweetly. “Perhaps you should warn your new allies.”

  He grabbed my arm in an uncompromising hold. “Listen to me, Danika! Stop this shit! The only way to save you from Bruno’s plans was to find you a husband. I found you a husband!”

  “Yes! That’s got to be the best Christmas present ever!” I smiled hugely, stretching my lips wide while maintaining fierce eyes on my brother and pulling on my arm furiously, trying to dislodge his grip.

  Tristan’s hold didn’t budge by even a little as he ignored my sarcasm. “I can guarantee that he will keep you safe from this mob world.”

  “Thanks. You shouldn’t have.” I tried the wide, toothy smile again, but to my horror, emotional moisture filled my previously cold eyes. I never cried. And I hated him even more for making my eyes leak salty streams of water. I refused to label them tears or remove the sugary smile from my face. “I hope you know that I will hate you for this.”

  He released me abruptly. “I don’t give a damn if you hate me or not. You will marry him and get the fuck off this island.”

  “Don’t worry, Tristan. I will leave this island, but I won’t be pimped out by anyone to get out of here.”

  Tristan’s expression immediately set into the stillness of hard marble, and his dark eyes glittered with fury.

  I swallowed hard, determined to not back down in my blatant defiance, but I started inching away from him as instinctive self-preserving fear filled me. How the hell had I forgotten the cold-hearted bastard my brother was?

  “I have informed Bruno of the contract, and he has signed off on it.” There was no crack in his façade. There was no longer any softening in his expression or even an attempt to soothe me. His voice was like a whip lashing against my ears. “Defy me in this, and I can also inform Bruno of what you really do when you leave the island.”

 

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