Two months ago

(Isabella 19 y.o.)

I sit at the edge of the bed and take my grandfather’s frail hand in mine. I’m trying to be careful not to nudge the attached IV, supplying fluids to keep him hydrated. I gently rearrange the tube and move the pole so I don’t accidentally bump it with my knees. The nightstand on the left is covered with all sorts of medicine bottles. At least ten of them. The air in the room feels stale, permeated with the smell of pharmaceuticals that seems to cling to everything.

“Nonno,” I whisper. His cheeks are sunken, and there are big black circles around his eyes. He looks really bad. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a train.”

“You had a heart attack. It’s to be expected. You’ll get better in a few days.”

He smiles sadly. “We both know that’s not true.” I start to say something, but he squeezes my hand and continues, “We need to talk. It’s important.”

“It can wait until you’re feeling better.”

“No, it can’t wait.” He shakes his head. “When I’m gone, there will be chaos. You know that.”

“You are not dying anytime soon. The Family needs you.” I press my lips together tightly. “I need you.”

Giuseppe Agostini has been leading the Chicago branch of the Cosa Nostra Family for twenty years, but he’s also been the rock of our own family. While he had his own wing, we all lived in the same house. I can’t imagine not having him here.

“It’s the circle of life. The old are meant to go, and the young stay.”

“You’re sixty-nine. That’s not old.”

“I know, stella mia. But, it is what it is.” He sighs and squeezes my hand. “You know how things work in our world. If a don dies without a successor defined, there will be an internal war within the Family. I called the capos to come the day after tomorrow, so I can name my replacement.”

I don’t understand why he’s telling me this. He’s not dying. It was just a minor heart attack. People live for years after that happens.

“The man I plan to name will need the connection to our family to ensure no one will confront him and make matters worse,” he continues, “Do you understand what I’m saying, Isabella?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“We need to tie our families together. By marriage.”

Things finally start to make sense and chills run down my spine. “You want me to marry? Right away?”

“Yes. Will you do that, Isi?”

Tears start to gather in the corners of my eyes. He’s the only one who ever calls me that.

“Did you talk with Angelo already?” I ask.

I have nothing against Angelo. He’s a nice guy, and we’ve been on a few dates, but I never felt anything for him, not even a spark. And I hoped I’d get a few more years of freedom.

“Yes.” He nods. “I told him that the engagement is off.”

“Off?” I blink. “I don’t understand.”

“Angelo is a good kid, but he’s too young to be a don, Isi. The rest of the Family would never stand by him.”

I draw my brows together, confused. “Who am I marrying then?”

“The only man who can take over all the shit I’m going to throw at him and not crumble under the weight of it.”

My breathing becomes shallow, and my heart starts thumping so hard I’m afraid it’s going to burst out of my chest.

“You’re marrying Luca Rossi,” my grandfather says the words I’ve been longing to hear for more than a decade, and I can only stare at him.

“But . . . he’s already married,” I say, dumbfounded.

“He and Simona are divorcing. It should be done in a matter of days. I know you’re only nineteen, and he is so much older than you . . .”

I shake my head and bend down to wrap my arms around his frail form. “I will gladly marry Luca, Nonno.”

Luca

I knock on the door of Don Agostini’s study.

“Come in,” a faint voice calls from the inside.

The Family has known for quite some time that Giuseppe hasn’t been well. I’ve been meeting with him at least once a week to update him on the real estate business, so I’ve witnessed the deterioration firsthand. Still, the sight that greets me makes me falter. He looks as if he’s aged twenty years since the last time I saw him.

“Luca.” He nods toward the chair on the other side of the desk. “Please sit.”

“How are you feeling, Boss?” I ask as I take a seat.

“Awful, as you can see.” He smiles. “I’ll be short because Lorenzo and the other capos are coming in less than an hour.”

I’ve been wondering what he wants to talk about since I got his call yesterday. At first, I assumed it would be business, as usual. But if that’s the case, it could be discussed after the meeting with the capos.

“I had a heart attack two days ago,” he says. “It was a minor thing, but as the doctor so nicely put it to me, I need to start getting my things in order. Fast.”

“All right. How can I help?”

“By taking over.”

“Okay.” I nod.

Giuseppe has been giving me more responsibilities over the last two years. He’s also transferred the real estate dealings to me completely, saying he couldn’t handle everything. I guess he plans to delegate another part of the business. “What do you need me to take over?”

“The Chicago Family of Cosa Nostra, Luca.”

I stare at him. Saying that he caught me by surprise would be an understatement. Everyone expected the next don to be Lorenzo Barbini.

“What about Lorenzo?” I ask.

“Lorenzo is a good underboss. He’s been organizing and overseeing the operations well so far,” Giuseppe says. “However, he’s not capable of making decisions that have the Family’s best interests in mind instead of his own. I always planned for it to be you.”

“Well, some warning in advance would have been appreciated.”

“Consider yourself warned.”

“Is that why you called all the capos today?” I ask.

“Yes, one of the reasons.”

“And the others?”

“Just one more. I’m moving up the timeline on an important matter.” He pauses, eyes locked onto mine. Despite his frail appearance, his gaze remains steady and scrutinizing. What is he hoping to find? “Isabella’s upcoming marriage,” he continues after bit.

“To Angelo Scardoni?”

A smile pulls across his face. “To you.”

I close my eyes, then open them widely. They said it was his heart, not his brain, that was going bad. “Isabella is nineteen,” I say. “I’m not marrying a child.”

“She’s not a child. Her mother married at eighteen. I don’t see a problem.”

“Well, I do. I could be her father, technically.”

“You’re not even thirty.”

“I’m thirty-five.” And he knows that very well, but he just waves his hand through the air like it’s nothing of importance.

“Isabella is a good girl, maybe a little stubborn sometimes, but she’s extremely clever and very well versed in social interaction and Family affairs. Not to mention exceptionally beautiful.”

That she is. I’ve seen her quite often, and I can’t deny the obvious. With her long chestnut hair falling down her back in soft curls, a pert nose, and huge dark eyes that are almost too big for her face, she is stunning. She isn’t very tall, but she has an amazing little body, a ridiculously tiny waist, and the most perfect ass I’ve ever seen. And the fact that I’ve noticed a nineteen-year-old’s ass at all is all kinds of fucked up. I’ve also known Isabella since she was a kid, and the idea of marrying her sounds completely insane.

It seems that Giuseppe doesn’t catch my reluctance because he continues speaking. “She’ll be a good wife to you. And if you let her, a good partner.”

“Partner in what?”

“In life, Luca. When you’re in a position of power, a wife you can lean on and trust is indispensable. For men like us, it’s rare to find a partner with whom you can share the good, as well as the bad. And there will be a shitload of bad, trust me.”

I shake my head. Who would have thought the don would be romantic. “The only person one can truly trust is themselves, Boss. And, sometimes, his closest blood kin. I’ve learned that lesson well.”

“Not all women are like Simona.” He reaches with his hand to take a glass of water from the desk, and I can’t help but notice the way his fingers are shaking. “What happened between you two? I know you never got along well, but a divorce?”

I recline back in the chair and cross my arms in front of me. “I caught her giving her bodyguard a blow job. In our bed. I suspected it for quite some time, so I set up a camera in the room.”

“Christ. Is he alive?”

“Nope. And she barely escaped the same fate.”

“I wondered why she went along with the divorce so easily. How’s Rosa dealing with the situation?” he asks after a pause.

“Simona was never interested in her. Rosa was only a means to an end. A tool to make me marry her.”

“I’m sorry. I hope Isabella will get along well with your daughter.”

“So you’re serious about the marriage thing?”

With his head bowed slightly, the don looks at me over the rims of his glasses. He opens a drawer, takes out a stack of papers, and throws them onto the desk in front of me. A marriage agreement. I can’t believe I just managed to get rid of one wife, and he’s saddling me with a child bride before my divorce is even finalized.

“What am I going to do with a nineteen-year-old, Boss?”

“Whatever you do, you will do it with respect. Isabella might be young, but she’s still my granddaughter, and a person who will help secure your place as the new don. Keep that in mind.”

I stare at the stack of papers in front of me. Clenching my teeth together, I give him my resigned nod.

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