Chapter 3
THREE
The next morning, a commotion in the foyer pulls me from my restless sleep.
I sit up too fast, my heart hammering, the unfamiliar weight of the Rusco estate pressing down on me. For a moment, I forget where I am. The towering ceilings, the carved wooden doors, the heavy silence of the house. It all feels like a dream I haven’t fully woken up from.
But then I hear it.
A bark.
The sound is distant, muffled by voices, but it sends a jolt through me like lightning striking bone.
A familiar bark.
I’m out of bed before I can think, my bare feet hitting the cold floor as I rush towards the hallway. My pulse thrums in my ears as I follow the sound, barely registering the surprised glances of passing house staff.
Another bark.
Louder this time. Closer.
I don’t stop running. My legs move on instinct, carrying me down the grand staircase, through the dimly lit corridors, past the portraits of ancestors I don’t know.
And then, as I round the corner into the foyer, I see him.
Axle.
He stands in the center of the grand entryway, his tail wagging so fast his entire body sways with it. His ears perk up the moment he sees me, and then…
He launches himself forward.
A sharp sob bursts from my throat as I drop to my knees, arms open wide as Axle barrels into me. His paws slam against my chest, nearly knocking me over as his tail whips wildly against the marble floor.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, burying my face into his thick fur. “Axle.”
He’s warm, solid, real.
His tongue drags sloppily across my cheek, his breath hot and familiar. He smells like the city, like wind and pavement and the faintest hint of Sin’s cologne. Tears burn at the edges of my eyes as I grip his fur tighter, as if he might disappear if I let go.
He whines, low and urgent, as if scolding me for leaving.
“I know,” I choke out, running my hands over his broad head, down his sturdy shoulders. “I missed you too.”
I missed you so much.
He nudges my cheek, licking at the salty tracks of my tears, his whole body vibrating with excitement.
My fingers graze something unusual against his collar.
I pull back slightly, just enough to see the small, folded note attached to the leather. My hands tremble as I pluck it free, my heartbeat pounding against my ribs like a war drum.
I know this paper.
I know this handwriting.
He misses you. We both do.
The breath in my chest catches, fractures, shatters.
I read it again, as if the words might change. As if I’m imagining them.
But I’m not.
Sin.
I know his handwriting like I know my own name. The sharp slant of the letters, the way the ink presses deeper in certain strokes. Every piece of him is etched into my soul, and now it’s right here, in my hands.
My fingers tighten around the note as something hot and aching rises in my throat.
He sent Axle to me.
A piece of home. A piece of him.
The weight of Cameron’s stare pulls me back to the moment. I nearly forgot we weren’t alone.
He leans against one of the grand columns, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
“The Donati’s dog, Magnolia?” he muses, tilting his head. “What if he’s a spy?”
“His name is Axle.” I shoot him a glare, my hand still tangled in Axle’s fur. “You think Sin trained him to report back?”
Cameron shrugs, unfazed. “Wouldn’t be the craziest thing he’s done.”
Axle lets out a low growl, his ears flattening as he stares at Cameron like he understands every word.
My mother steps forward before I can snap back. She kneels beside me, running her fingers gently behind Axle’s ears, her touch light.
“He’s part of the family now,” she says softly, her eyes meeting mine with quiet understanding.
My mother’s expression leaves no room for him to argue. Cameron turns to the security. “Make sure he didn’t break the treaty. The dog was just sitting on the step, waiting for someone to open the door.”
I stand up, ready to pounce. I may be angry at Sin, but I don’t want any harm to come to anyone. Violence cannot be the answer to everything. “If it was Bria.”
Cameron holds up a finger, “Aside from you, there are no exceptions to the treaty.”
I look to my mother for help. “No harm will come to Bria if it was her.”
Cameron is awestruck, “That’s not-”
“How is it okay for Magnolia to go to their side but not Bria?” With a huff, she walks away, turning just before she disappears into the hall. “We just got our girl back. We’re not going to go after theirs.”
Cameron doesn’t look like the brother that’s been so sweet to me, his face morphs into an unrelentless scowl.
He looks like what he is, the heir to the throne. A child raised to be the leader of the Rusco family.
I’m going to need to make sure Bria is safe.
Even if she hates me, even if she knew the whole time…
Cameron walks towards me, inviting me into his study. “There are things you need to know about the Donati family.”
Cameron’s study is nothing like the rest of the house.
It’s darker, richer. Elegant but severe.
The emerald-green walls are lined with shelves of first editions, each spine a whisper of history and power.
A massive oak desk dominates the center of the room, its surface polished to a mirror-like sheen, and the scent of aged paper and leather lingers in the air.
A fireplace sits unlit in the corner, its carved marble mantle heavy with old memories.
A crystal decanter glows under the light, half-filled with whiskey that catches the golden flickers of the lamp beside it.
Cameron stands near it, nursing a drink, his fingers wrapped loosely around the glass.
He isn’t looking at me. He’s looking past me, out the large window that stretches from floor to ceiling.
Beyond it, the estate is quiet, the trees swaying under the morning sun.
I watch him, a strange tension creeping along my spine.
“What?” I ask softly.
He doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he takes another sip of his whiskey, the ice clinking as he tilts his wrist. When he speaks, his voice is heavier than I’ve ever heard it. I don’t mention how he’s drinking at the crack of dawn.
“You know how everyone talks about how ruthless Sin is?”
I nod.
Cameron exhales slowly. “He didn’t get that from nowhere.” He turns his gaze back to the glass in his hand. “His father, Salvatore Donati… he was something else. Something darker.”
The mention of Sin’s father sends a chill through me. I pull the blanket I’d draped over my shoulders tighter, but it does nothing to stop the cold spreading in my chest.
Cameron tips his head back slightly, eyes locked on the world beyond the glass.
“The Donati’s always wanted full control. Not just a seat at the table. They wanted the whole damn table. And our family stood in their way.”
A pit starts forming in my stomach.
He swirls the whiskey absently, as if gathering his thoughts. “They were waiting for an opportunity, and they got one.”
I don’t move, afraid that if I breathe too loud, I might shatter the moment.
“Dad was young, but he was strong. Respected. He controlled key parts of the city. The ports, the West Side, half of downtown. He was keeping the Donati’s boxed in, and Salvatore hated that.”
His grip tightens on the glass, knuckles turning white.
“So, Salvatore invited our father to a sit-down. Said it was about peace. About drawing clear lines so there wouldn’t be any more bloodshed.”
I already know where this is going. My heart starts to beat faster.
“Dad brought a few men with him. I remember him kissing Mom’s cheek before he left, promising he’d be back for dinner.” Cameron’s voice dips lower, rougher. “But that night changed everything.”
I force myself to swallow past the lump in my throat.
“Salvatore didn’t want peace.”
Cameron takes another drink, his expression distant.
“They weren’t even inside the restaurant for ten minutes before the wine they drank started burning through them.”
I inhale sharply. “Poison?”
He nods, his mouth twisting in something like disgust. “Took them all out before they could even draw their guns. Except for Dad. They saved him.”
“They dragged him into a warehouse on the river. Salvatore wanted to make an example out of him.” Cameron swallows hard. “So, he tortured him. He broke his fingers. Took a blade to his skin.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Cam…”
But he’s not finished.
“As you know, they didn't kill him. Salvatore asked him one last time. ‘Who does New York belong to?’”
Cameron’s jaw clenches. “And you know what Dad said?”
I shake my head, barely able to find my voice.
“‘Not you.’”
I feel like I’m going to be sick.
Cameron exhales sharply. “So, Salvatore carved a Donati ‘D’ into his chest. A warning to the rest of the families. Then they dumped his body in front of our gates like garbage.”
My stomach turns. I can’t imagine the horror. The fear. My mother, finding him like that.
Cameron’s voice drops lower. “Mom was pregnant with me. They were so young, and she was terrorized.”
The wind stirs the trees outside, but I can’t hear anything over the pounding of my own heart.
I swallow hard. “Why… why would he do that?”
Cameron finally looks at me. His expression is unreadable.
“Because our father was winning. He had the power. The respect. Salvatore couldn’t take it from him, so he tried to destroy him.”
I sit back, stunned.
Sin’s father didn’t just murder my father years later. That night, all those years ago, he tortured him. Carved his own name into his skin.
And I’m in love with his son.
That night, Axle doesn’t leave my side.
He follows me through the halls, presses against my legs, curls up beside me when I finally retreat to my room. For the first time since stepping foot in this house, I don’t feel completely alone.
The weight of the day settles deep in my bones as I sink into the mattress. As It turns out someone entirely separate from either family is the one who brought me Axle.
Zeik Caputo.
Sin’s lifelong friend that reminds me of a frat boy and gave me so much shit when I first met him.
Their family is like Switzerland between the Donati and Rusco rivalry, and they are safe to pass any treaty line.
Axle’s steady warmth is anchoring me. His fur is thick beneath my fingertips as I run my hands through it absentmindedly, comforted by the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing.
The house is silent. Too big. Too unfamiliar.
But Axle is real.
And so is Sin.
I exhale shakily, rubbing my thumb against the leather of Axle’s collar. And that’s when I feel it.
Something stiff, something hidden.
A second note.
My heart pounds as I carefully lift the folded paper tucked beneath the leather, my hands shaking as I open it.
Be careful.
That’s all it says.
Two simple words.
But they send a chill down my spine.
Sin wrote this. Sin sent this.
I can almost hear his voice in my head, low and rough, weighted with warning.
Be careful.
I swallow hard, gripping the note tightly. Something isn’t right.
Something bigger is coming.
And for the first time since arriving at the Rusco estate, I feel a different kind of fear creeping in.
Not just for myself.
For Sin.
While he may have betrayed me beyond words, I still have a flutter in my aching heart for him. I see the danger he’s in. I see it in Cameron’s eyes. The longing he has to destroy the Donati empire.
I can’t blame him.
Because as I heard the rattle of my father’s last breath through the phone, the only thing I could think of was revenge.
But the only vengeance I have is towards Salvatore Donati.
Sin’s father.