The Reaper’s Bride

Chapter 1

Caterina

Flying down the stairs well past midnight, I ignore the ladylike behavior Mother expects of me when I hear my brothers’ voices below. I’ve seen much less of them since the outbreak of this latest bloody conflict within the Trio.

Staggering into the solid mass of my oldest brother, Nico, I hug him tightly.

He’s eight years older than me, tall, muscular and intimidating-looking with that jagged scar on his face.

As a girl in our world, I’m to be protected, locked in my golden cage where our enemies can’t reach me, whereas Nico has been a Made Man for ten years.

Yet, the cruelty in his gray eyes always melts when he looks at me, something for which my father often rebukes both my brothers.

Openly caring for someone is a grave weakness in his opinion.

It never stops them from showing me the affection our parents avoid, another reason I love my brothers best.

“Cat,” Nico says gruffly, softening just enough to accept my clinging embrace. “What have you done to your hair?” His lips twist into a wry grin as he brushes back my spiky bangs.

Cutting my hair was an act of rebellion, not a well-thought-out one perhaps considering how it looks. “I copied something from a magazine. Mother was so angry. Do you like it?”

“No, it’s awful,” an amused voice drawls from behind me, my other brother Dante.

More volatile than Nico, he’s already earned a frightening reputation at twenty.

My bang-cutting rebellion is laughably childish compared to the hell he unleashes on the streets and in the fighting ring.

“It’s late for kittens to still be awake.

Busy reading more tales of knights and chivalry? ”

I scowl at him (mostly, because he’s right) until I notice the blood on his shirt. “You are hurt!” I gasp, rushing to his side.

He shakes his head, preventing me from embracing him. “It’s not my blood nor Nico’s, but it covers you as well now.”

Horrified, I look down to see my white nightgown is stained red beneath my small breasts. Under the hall lights, I realize Nico’s black dress shirt is shiny and wet under his gun holster. I catch the coppery scent in the air and feel queasy. “Whose blood is it?” I whisper, swallowing hard.

“No one you’ll miss, Cat,” Nico replies darkly, making Dante laugh.

Their words and laughter are harsh, but they are harsh men.

The softness they show me is a mask they wear, hiding their true selves while I choose to wear my blindfold of make-believe.

I can pretend my brothers are good men because they’re good to me, but I know what it means to be part of the mafia.

I cross my arms over my torso, wanting to hide the bloody stain as the door to Father’s office opens. “Nico, Dante,” he clips, his cold gray eyes settling on me. “I hear you’ve complicated our peace talks tonight.”

Is there talk of peace? The war between the three leading families of the Trio has raged for nearly a year.

So much blood has been spilled. Father says it’s bad for business but shares few details with me or Mother.

Outbursts and eavesdropping are how I learn whatever news I can.

Curious Cat, my brothers sometimes call me. Mother often warns me it’s unwise.

“We don’t need peace with the De Lucas,” Dante spits. “Vicini needs us more than he needs Vegas.”

“The Trio is strong because together we rule the three largest territories in the U.S. In-fighting only makes things easier for our enemies to bring us down. Pacts and promises had already been made. If you had kept your head tonight-”

“I am to blame for tonight, Father, not Dante. If you are angry, be angry with me, but I won’t lament the loss of a De Luca,” Nico says in the same coolly measured tones as my father. “Cat, go back to bed now,” he adds, giving me a nudge toward the stairs.

I’m very curious about what happened but know better than to argue. So, the next words from my father’s mouth shock me to my core. “No. Caterina, you will join us for a moment.”

Icicles slide down from my skull to my toes as Father holds the door open for me to enter his lair where I’m rarely welcomed.

No one, not even Mother who shares his bed, enters Father’s office without permission.

My brothers follow me inside and, while they appear outwardly comfortable, I catch the concerned glance that passes between them before Nico pours himself a drink.

Dante takes a seat on the leather sofa as my father stands at his desk, wearing his standard three-piece suit though it’s late.

He’s armed which is strange because he says a strong Capo shouldn’t appear afraid inside his home.

I feel extremely conspicuous in my girlish nightgown with its splotch of blood even if these three men are my closest kin.

Our father has a short coughing spell, he’s smoked cigars for many years, and Nico pours him a drink as well.

Once he’s collected himself, he speaks. “The Don is choosing to view tonight’s hotheadedness as a final skirmish in a long conflict.

New York wants this peace and so do I. De Luca wants it, too. Or did until you killed his heir.”

My jaw drops. Nico killed Silvio, Jr.? I remember him from a few social gatherings. Many years older, he ignored me, naturally, though I’ve heard he was a vile monster like his father. He’d certainly looked like one. The De Luca Family are renowned for their brutality, even in our world.

“Sil, Jr. shouldn’t have pissed off Nico. No one is better with a blade,” Dante says, flashing a grin as if they’re speaking of a sports contest. He thrives on violence, something this war had given him plenty of.

“Why did you fight him?” our father asks, ignoring Dante.

“He showed up at our most popular club and brutalized one of the workers.”

“He beat a whore. So what? He was a guest in our city negotiating peace,” my father says, incredulous.

“He has a strange concept of negotiating peace when he tortures one of our girls to death. In our city, in our club, Father. It was an insult. I confronted him, and I fought him. He deserved my wrath.”

My ears feel hot. My whole face does. They never speak this way in my presence.

It’s clear my father feels no sympathy for the dead girl.

I doubt Nico’s wrath had as much to do with the prostitute as it did with the lack of respect Sil, Jr. had shown.

I still don’t understand why Father wants me here.

“So, now what? More war? Nico can’t un-kill him,” Dante says, still grinning like a madman.

“Now, we are forced to make concessions. Vicini demands it of us all.”

Don Vicini is the head of New York and the East Coast. My father rules Chicago and its subordinate cities just as De Luca rules Las Vegas and the West, but both ultimately answer to New York when there is peace in the Trio.

Our association was formed by the three most powerful mafia families out of Italy who banded together to face their common foes many years ago.

Even with the changing times and occasional civil war, we persist and hold to our old ways, just as the three-headed wolf has become our symbol, known and feared throughout the criminal underworld.

“What concessions? I killed his heir. Are you going to turn yours over to them, Father?”

“No. I’ll be turning over my daughter to be a bride instead.”

His daughter to be a bride? All the oxygen leaves the room. I’m completely stunned. “Caterina is not of age,” Nico growls with none of his customary coolness.

“She is old enough to be betrothed. Two years and she will marry.”

Two years? Married? I’m still in high school. I always knew my father would choose who I’d marry someday but why so soon? What about what I want? Doesn’t that matter at all?

“They will want blood,” Nico warns.

“Your sister’s virgin blood will suffice for the sake of symbolism.”

I nearly collapse at the thought as Dante starts shouting, “Symbolism?! You cannot do this!”

“As head of this family, I can and I will.” His hand rests on the butt of his gun.

That’s why he’s armed, to quell any hot-headed responses from his sons.

Meanwhile, I’m swaying where I stand as my brothers yell.

He’s completely unmoved by their outrage or my utter desolation.

“This is merely a change of cast. I had already agreed to a marriage pact between Caterina and Silvio, Jr. to ensure peace.”

“You what?!” Dante roars, looking ready to attack.

Nico barely manages to restrain him - it’s death to raise a hand to one’s Capo, blood or not.

As my brothers continue to argue, I’m silent, grieving internally over this betrayal by my father.

I know daughters are not considered as important, that we’re only seen as something useful to barter away in marriages that might strengthen the Trio.

I’ve been bartered away at sixteen to a man who tortures and kills women for his amusement and am barely informed of the fact.

But, if Silvio, Jr. is dead…

“Father?” My voice sounds small but the way Nico flinches from it makes me ask my question loud and clear. I am a Morelli, the Capo’s daughter and the future Capo’s sister. I will not cry or tremble. “Who am I to marry?”

My father glances my way at last without a flicker of guilt.

“Don Vicini believes, if I offer you to De Luca’s second son, Alessio, as recompense, he’ll still accept peace terms to end the war.

You will be the wife of a Capo someday, Caterina, an even better match than I could make for you in my own territory, and your compliance will save lives. ”

He burdens me with the lives of others in order to secure my obedience - it is all he values in me - and makes it sound like a great honor.

“Alessio De Luca,” I repeat, testing the name on my tongue. I’ve never met him. He has always remained in Las Vegas, the seat of their family’s power when his father or older brother traveled to Chicago.

But, I have heard of him.

If half the stories are true, normal society would never dare speak his name aloud, only whispered rumors would be shared like an urban horror story.

Our men call him Reaper.

He became a Made Man at twelve, almost unheard of in the Trio.

He’s been his father’s Enforcer since turning sixteen, an honor and a curse never before bestowed on one so young.

He’s twenty-one now, five years older than me, and has spent years exacting revenge on traitors and punishing debtors with inventive cruelty and sadistic relish.

With his brother’s death, he’s the future Capo of Las Vegas.

And my brother has killed his own. Recompense my father has named it. I’m to be the recompense for what Nico has done.

Glancing down at my bloody nightgown, I shiver with fear. I never imagined one of the brothers who loves me best in this cruel world would be responsible for my early demise. Alessio De Luca will be sure to make my life a living hell… until he chooses to end it.