“Oh my God, Angelina,” she hisses. “If he sees me like this…” Her cheeks flush bright pink.

  “You’ll make his day,” I say on a whisper.

  Elise is hot for her bodyguard. Her very handsome, very protective, very much older bodyguard. She shakes her head and tips her head back, but not before she pinches her cheeks and purses her lips. I swear she even breathes a bit more heavily. “Come in!”

  Piero, Elise’s bodyguard, walks into the room. If there were a poster to be plastered in a travel agent’s office to advertise for vacationing in Tuscany, Piero would be front and center with his classically Italian rugged looks.

  “Your father called, Elise.” He looks away, a muscle twitching in his jaw.

  “Oh?” She’s breathless, so obviously in love with this man that I don’t know if she could hide it if she wanted. “And what did he say?”

  “He wants you to pack your bags.” I swear a vein pulses in his temple. “Now."

  Elise pales. "What? I just got here," she says, a little furrow in her brow showing how perplexed she is. I know she comes here not just because she enjoys visiting Tuscany, but because this is where Piero is. She has bodyguards in the States as well, but they are older, kind of lumbering men. I'm not sure her father’s ever seen this one, because if he did, he’d probably lock her up and shoot him.

  “He wants you to pack up everything.” He shakes his head and turns for the door. “And I can't tell you why." Something’s terribly wrong. Elise looks at me in a panic.

  He leaves. Elise is on her feet. My heartbeat quickens, and my hands feel clammy and damp. We ate panini at one of the little local restaurants for lunch, and I feel as if I'm going to lose it.

  Elise has never told me who her family is, but I'm not stupid. I know who she is. I know who her father is. I can read a damn newspaper, or an online article. I never cared that her father was involved in organized crime. My own family doesn’t lie on a bed of roses either.

  My father’s a drug dealer, and it’s probably the only reason why I'm still friends with her. Any other parents would've ended our friendship long ago, but my dad doesn't give a shit what I do, and he never has. Probably even wants in with her dad.

  We traveled the world, my school was paid for in full, anything and everything I wanted was mine… Except a dependable family. A relationship I could call my own.

  I look at Elise. Just a minute ago we were laughing, enjoying reminiscing about old times in our childhood, and now… now I don't know what to expect. I know that things change at the drop of a hat around here, that she's subjected to her father’s whims and wishes whenever he feels like it. It's partly why we come here to Tuscany when he's in America and go back to America when he's in Tuscany. Just to escape him.

  We’ve been attached at the hip since she saved my life… and I’ll never forget it. I’ll be indebted to her forever.

  "We have to find out what this is about," I say to her. "We can't just accept that you have to pack your bags." My heart is hammering so loudly, there's a rush of blood in my ears. This could mean literally anything.

  “Well, how are we going to find out what it is? I can't exactly call my dad. You know he's not going to say anything, and he’s just going to get mad at me for even asking."

  I bite my lip, thinking about it. I think I know what we have to do, but I have to choose my words precisely, so that I don't get her in worse trouble than she already is.

  "I think you need to find a way to ask Piero. I think maybe you even have to seduce him to get that answer."

  She blinks, wide-eyed and surprised. I'm not usually the one to suggest something dangerous, and I'm not quite sure why I’m doing so now, but somehow, I know what’s going to happen next may change the course of her life forever. Something tells me there's no coming back from this.

  She opens the door and yells his name. “Piero! Hey, can you come back here for a minute?" She twirls her hair seductively and shoves her breasts out to get his attention. What she doesn't know is that she doesn't have to even try, he's already completely enamored with her.

  He walks back heavily, looking over his shoulder and from side to side, making sure no one knows he's coming back. She beckons for him to come into her bedroom.

  When he enters, she shuts and locks the door behind her. Hands on her hips, all hint of flirtation gone, she skewers him with a look she likely inherited from her ruthless father. "Tell me everything."

  He shakes his head. "I can't. Your father will…” He looks at me.

  He doesn't want me to know what her father is capable of. But I already know. “Listen. Is it something serious?"

  He doesn't answer but looks furtively at the door. "I don't care about me,” he says. "I don't care if I lose my job or worse. But I don't want you to get in trouble."

  Shit. This is worse than I thought.

  Elise isn’t even close to flirting anymore. She’s gone pale and looks as if she might pass out. She doesn’t have the strongest of constitutions. “What is it?” she asks.

  “Elise.” His voice is choked, and I don't know why. Fear or something else? "I can't tell you. He'll kill me." He looks back at me, and she looks back at me as well.

  "For the love of God, you guys, I know who you are. Stop pretending I'm an idiot."

  "I don't think you're an idiot, but sometimes it's better that you don't know things,” Elise says.

  “Exactly,” Piero says. “Which is why I’m not telling you shit.” He curses under his breath in Italian.

  Elise draws in a breath. “If you tell me, they’ll never find out. I’ll make sure of it.”

  He curses again. “You can’t promise that.”

  She nods. “I won’t let them.”

  Neither of us says anything for long moments. We know that she has no power in this. We both know that she is a mafia daughter, and her life has never been her own. We know that it's only a matter of time before her father intervenes and chooses her future.

  Piero looks around again and shakes his head. “I can’t, Elise.”

  She pleads with him silently, giving him a look I’m not sure anyone could resist. He runs a hand through his short black hair and curses under his breath. When he does, a sleeve of his shirt pulls up and I can see ink on his arm I didn’t notice before. If he’s her bodyguard, is he one of them, then?

  “I’ll tell you,” he says in a choked whisper. “But you didn’t hear it from me. You never heard it from me, do you understand me?”

  She nods. “Of course. Yes, of course.”

  I’m standing beside her, my hands clenched in fists. My heartbeat races, fearing the absolute worst. I don’t know what happened or why, but I’m fucking scared.

  “Your father made arrangements for marriage. You are supposed to marry one of the Rossi men. I don't know who. I know them, but I don't know who you're marrying, all I know is that it isn't Romeo because he got married last year."

  "No," she whispers. “Piero… Tell me it isn't true."

  In a bold move, he reaches for her and brings her closer to him. It's then I realize that the crush is mutual, but he doesn’t kiss or embrace her. He shakes her shoulders. "It is true. They want you to pack your bags and go home tonight. They're taking you back to Boston on a red-eye flight. You'll be married as soon as you get there. They’re wasting no time, not even planning a big wedding." His own voice chokes. "They'll kill me if they knew that I talked to you."

  She looks at me in a panic, shaking her head. “What do I do?” she whispers. “What do I do?”

  I turn to him. I feel as if I’m trapped in another time, when women weren’t allowed a say. "Have they ever seen her?"

  He nods his head. “I’m sure they have. I have no doubt. I mean, I’m sure Romeo has because he was the one that arranged this and he’s the Rossi family Don. He wouldn’t blindly pick a woman that wasn’t…” his voice trails off and he looks at Elise. “Stunning.”

  She blinks, and a tear rolls down her cheek.

  “Oh my God, will you two stop being so dramatic,” I say, rolling my eyes. “We need a plan, none of this hand-to-brow dramatics.”

  Elise looks at me in shock. Piero looks to her.

  “Take her. Get her out of here.” I draw in a breath and release it slowly. “The man taking her home, the pilot, does he know why?”

  Piero shakes his head. “No. We don’t share any information, as little as possible.” Smart.

  “So if I go in her stead, they’ll never know, will they?”

  “Oh, no,” Elise says, shaking her head. “No way. I can’t let you do that, I won’t.”

  “Do what?” I laugh, belying the roiling pit in my stomach and raw nerves that are going to kill me. “I’m not actually marrying anyone. I’ll create a diversion only, then once you’re gone, I’ll escape.” I’ve already lived a nomadic life. Why stop now?

  She blinks and looks to Piero, then back to me. “What do you mean? What do you have in mind?”

  “I’ll get on the plane and distract them. And you.” I stab my finger at him. “Get her out of here. Hide her. Safe house, family home, tiny little island in the South Pacific, I don’t care. I’ll get on the plane and head home and pretend to be her. Tell me you’ve got money.”

  He flushes. “Of course.”

  “And by the time they realize I’m the wrong one, it’ll be too late. She’ll already be sipping margaritas on a beach somewhere.”

  Elise shakes her head. “No, I can’t let you do this.”

  “Oh yes you can.” I take her hands and squeeze. “You saved my life once, Elise. And I won’t ever forget it. I owe this to you. I’m only going to pretend to be you.” I toss my hair. “And you know I have a degree in acting, girl. Let me actually get to use it, will you?”

  She shakes her head. “Let her do it, Elise.” Piero says. “You have to. She doesn’t have to actually marry anyone.”

  “How will that work?”

  He runs his hands through his hair. “She’ll pretend she’s you. Get on the plane. I’ll call in a favor from a buddy, have her pretend to be taken, or the plane will crash or something. We’ll get her out of there before she gets in the Rossis’ hands, and we’ll have to do it in a way that they never suspect.”

  “Wow. That’s like evil genius.”

  He gives a modest shrug. Elise’s eyes go wide.

  “What will happen to my family?” she asks in a little voice. “I can’t… I can’t leave them in ruin.”

  “It depends on how the Rossis handle it,” he says with a nod. “They may demand another type of payment but might be merciful if it’s framed like an accident. I’ll do what I can on my end to lessen the impact of all this.”

  He’s putting his life on the line.

  So am I.

  “Elise…” his voice trails off. “I’m telling you this. I shouldn't be telling you any of this. But I've met the Rossis. I served time with Santo, one of their main core. The man is a fucking psychopath. I don't want you in that family. What if they marry you to Santo? I swear he has no conscience. I can't imagine you being with a guy like him…”

  Oh God. I have to make sure I get away. I have to make sure I don’t get captured by them or something.

  I swallow hard. “Take her now. Here.” I start stripping my clothes off right there. “Wear my clothes and walk out with him.”

  We don’t look that much alike, but we both have the same length light brown hair. Though hers is often styled and mine is pulled into a messy bun, it will still serve the intended purpose.

  “I owe you,” Elise says, wrapping her arms around me and squeezing my neck. “I so owe you. And God, Angelina, I need you to stay safe…”

  “I will, I promise. I’ll escape as soon as I can.” I’ve gotten this far with sheer tenacity and stubborn will. I can keep it up. Talk is cheap, though. My nerves are on fire.

  Piero leaves us to quickly pack. Elise throws things in a small duffel bag to avoid attention, and helps me pack things that I can take with me. If Elise really was getting married tonight, she would have boxes and boxes of everything she owned, shoes and purses and clothes and jewelry. I decide to pack it all for the sake of appearances, but Piero comes back in and puts an end to that.

  “No. Rossi said take only the essentials. He’ll provide everything else.”

  Elise looks at me, pales, and hands me the journals.

  She goes to give me a hug, but I shake my head. I don’t want to make it look like we know that anything’s happening, that we have any idea at all.

  Piero looks at me and squeezes my hand. “Thank you,” he whispers. “I’ll pay you back for this, I promise.”

  He opens the door. “Angelina, they’re waiting for you. Private jet will take you back to Boston. I’ll carry your things.”

  “Go,” I whisper in her ear. “I love you.”

  There’s only a flight attendant and a pilot aboard this flight. “You ready, Miss?”

  I nod as the door shuts and I can’t see Elise or Piero anymore. I blow out a breath and feel as if I’m going to cry.

  The plane takes off, while my heart, my hopes and dreams and anything I hoped to accomplish are back on the Tuscan earth.

  CHAPTER 3

  “Lady, you are the cruel'st she alive

  If you will lead these graces to the grave

  And leave the world no copy.” ~ Twelfth Night, Shakespeare

  Orlando

  I blink in the bright overhead sun. The last time I came here, snow fell from the sky, just a couple days after Christmas. Now, the sun shines and green leaves are blossoming on trees. If I believed in signs, I’d feel as if this were a sign of new life. But I’m way too jaded to believe in shit like that.

  Romeo stands next to me, dressed in one of his impeccable suits, and everyone around us gives him a wide berth. Even the corrections officers nod to him when he comes into the room. Most Dons wouldn’t come themselves for a task like this but would send someone else in their place.

  Romeo isn’t like that. Romeo is as loyal as they come.

  He hugs me so hard I lose my breath and smacks my back so hard it stings. But I welcome it. It’s so fucking good to be out of there.

  “Glad to have you out of there, man,” he says, releasing me. His eyes quickly assess every inch of me, from the still fresh scar on my arm, to the bandaged elbow, to the laceration that’s long since healed across my collarbone.

  “Heart’s still beating,” he says. “You’re still fucking alive. That’s what matters.”

  Yeah.

  Some guys don’t survive prison. Some guys don’t come out the way they went in. And I learned after my first stint in the big house, it was more important for me to have good mental stamina than anything else. If I could survive the torment of solitary confinement, I could survive anything.

  Most men behind bars don’t have the life experience I do. Most haven’t suffered through what I have. So I guess one could say it’s a fucking advantage.

  The only one, maybe.

  My heart warms when I see my brothers in the back of the Lamborghini SUV. Santo’s in the driver’s seat, grinning at me, never one to pass up a chance to drive when he can. We all have the option of drivers so we can conduct business when going places, but sometimes we like to drive ourselves. Santo never uses a driver. He owns six cars, and trades at least one of them out a quarter. Fuck, I missed the son of a bitch.

  Tavi and Mario sit in the back.

  “This is quite a fucking welcome home party,” I say. Romeo smiles but doesn’t reply. I wonder if he has something up his sleeve.

  I notice pretty quickly that we’re not taking the route to the highway that will take us to our family home, The Castle, in Gloucester. We’re heading deep into the recesses of the City, where most of us own private residences in the high-end historical district of Beacon Hill.

  “Decided it was best for you to have a night of total freedom,” Romeo says. “We have family visiting from Tuscany, and The Castle’s fucking bustling.”

  “We thought that maybe you’d like to have a little peace and quiet, is what he’s saying,” Mario, my youngest brother, says with a twinkle in his eye. “And maybe a little fucking tail.” Always one to prioritize sex.

  “Jesus, I love you guys,” I say, putting my head on the back of my seat and exhaling. “What I really want right now is a cold one and some good damn food.”

  Santo laughs. “Told you.” Romeo and Santo share a look I can’t quite decipher.

  “All right, what are you assholes up to? You got something up your sleeves, I know it.” Mario hands me a plastic container, maybe to shut me up. He’s like a modern-day James Dean with his rugged good looks and suave attitude. He melts panties when he walks down the street. “Eat, brother.”

  I open it up to see a flaky, crusty calzone, straight from our kitchen. My mouth waters. I keep my head over the box so I don’t mess up the nice car, and shovel it in my mouth. I groan at the first bite. Oh God, it’s so good. One of my favorite foods, and they know it. I like all kinds of food and will eat damn near anything, but nothing beats Nonna’s spinach and sausage calzone. Pretty sure this one was meant to be shared as a family, but I polish the whole damn thing off in minutes while my brothers tell me about everything that’s happened at home.

  Mama has not seen the man that she was dating. Nonna and Mama have been fighting over which cookies to make for me upon my return. Marialena has gone to grad school, but still visits The Castle frequently. And Rosa… No one wants to talk about Rosa.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, concerned about my eldest sister whose husband died after my father ordered his murder after he cheated on her.

  “She has her hands full with Natalia,” Romeo says. “She’s getting frustrated living here, and wants to return permanently to Tuscany, but she’s worried about what will happen there.” And they don’t have to tell me what they mean. I know what they do. If we sent Rosa back to Tuscany, we’d have to send a veritable army with her. She might not be safe from her ex’s family. “She’s back there with her bodyguards visiting for now, but left Natalia with us.”

 

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