Bound to Her Enemy (The Esposito Legacy #3)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Siena Esposito’s first wedding had ended with a death. She’d barely had time to digest being jilted at the altar before her father suffered a cardiac arrest and literally dropped down dead in the church.

For this, her second wedding, there was zero chance of her being jilted, but she still wished for a death.

In this case, the groom’s. If she were wearing the traditional white princess dress she’d worn for her first wedding, she’d be tempted to tuck two of her guns in her suspender belt and walk the chapel’s aisle firing bullets into the bastard she was minutes from pledging her life to.

Siena had been prepared to marry Niccolo Martinelli because her father had asked it of her, and her father was not a man anyone could say no to.

Mattia, her oldest brother, might now have the authority that was once their father’s, but Siena would never allow him to control her like their father had.

She would never be anyone’s patsy again.

She’d made that clear when she’d agreed to Mattia stepping into their father’s shoes and taking on the title of Don.

She would support him at all times and never voice any disagreement publicly, and in return, he would treat her with the same respect and regard that he treated their brothers.

And so, when Mattia had first approached her about marrying Elio Ranieri, she’d had no qualms about saying no.

Agreeing to a second marriage of convenience when she was still grieving the loss of their father and secretly celebrating the jilting of her first wedding – the humiliation of it had stung like hell, mainly because the whole world knew about it, but the taste of freedom and self-determination had been potent – had been out of the question.

Besides, there was something about Elio Ranieri that put her on seriously edge, and that was without taking into account their families’ history.

She’d done enough for her family. Given up enough. It was time for someone else to step up to the mark.

Her refusal had led to a dossier being created of all the Espositos’ single, female cousins for Elio to choose from.

Siena had refused to feel guilt about her cousins being turned into some kind of marriage-worthy pick and mix.

She had a lot of cousins, and they all benefited from the wealth Siena’s father had created.

It was true that many of them played their parts in the business, but not to the extent that Siena and her brothers did.

If Siena hadn’t already despised Elio, the cousin he chose and his reason for it would have cinched that hate.

He’d chosen the youngest and sweetest of her cousins from the only part of the family that played no part in any aspect of the family business.

The first Siena had learned of Mattia overruling her request that Francesca be left off the list was when Elio declared she was the only cousin he would settle for.

If he couldn’t marry Siena, then he would marry Francesca, and if that couldn’t be arranged, he would take it as a declaration of war.

His choice was currently sitting on Siena’s bed in Siena’s childhood home, wearing a pretty floral dress that hit the wedding vibe far more than the outfit Siena had chosen, but it wasn’t Francesca who would walk up the aisle to him.

Siena was an Esposito. Her family did not do sentimentality. She’d spent her whole damned life proving to her family that she was tough like her brothers, that she couldn’t just play her part in their family but be an active participant, a player. Francesca was different.

Francesca’s family had benefited from the Espositos’ wealth like everyone else, but Francesca had been raised far from Naples and cossetted and protected from the danger of it all.

The times Siena had seen her throughout their lives, she’d always felt a strange protectiveness towards her.

For weeks, she’d smothered her disquiet about Francesca being basically forced into marrying a monster who wanted her only for her virginity until the day had come when something inside her snapped.

Siena had chosen to embrace the life she’d been born into. Francesca hadn’t. Francesca was not equipped to deal with Elio Ranieri. Siena would have to marry him herself.

That Francesca had actually fallen in love with someone not far off the Elio Ranieri danger scale and then announced her wish to play a full part in their world didn’t change that Siena was doing the right thing.

Let her cousin be happy while she could. God knew, happiness in this world was rarely more than fleeting.

And at least she was marrying Elio on her own terms and through her own choice, she told herself. This wasn’t being forced on her. She wouldn’t have her sweetest and funniest cousin’s ruined life on her conscience for the rest of her life.

She met her cousin’s stare in the mirror’s reflection and for a fleeting moment wished she were her sister.

The closest thing Siena had to a sister was Gabriella, now her brother Tommaso’s wife, but that was a relationship that had been detonated through Gabriella’s treachery.

A part of Siena longed to forgive, but that would be weak, and Siena was done with being weak.

To get through her marriage, she needed to be stronger than she had ever been.

Traitors were everywhere, even amongst the people you thought loved you.

Her father had always said to trust no one.

She’d never dreamed she shouldn’t have trusted him.

Her relationship with her mother was different as it had long been complicated, and as she thought of her mother, she appeared at the door, her refined, willowy beauty masking a heart colder than the Siberian tundra.

Her mother had always been steely, and if Siena was to survive Elio Ranieri, she needed to pack her heart in the same steel her mother had wrapped hers in.

“Ready?” her mother asked quietly.

Breathing in slowly through her nose, Siena lifted her chin and nodded.

* * *

Elio Ranieri stood in the Espositos’ private chapel, waiting with his brother for his bride to appear.

His bride would recite her vows in full view of her mother, three brothers, two sisters-in-law, a full complement of grandparents, numerous aunts and uncles, great aunts and great uncles and a multitude of cousins. Elio’s vows would be made in front of his brother, sister and one cousin.

For Siena, the only person missing would be her recently deceased father.

For Elio, there were too many people missing to count.

His parents and everyone else had been wiped out twenty-six years ago.

There would be people standing in this congregation who’d played an active part in the slaughter that had seen Elio orphaned at the age of nine.

His brother, sister and cousin had been even younger.

He was standing amidst the nest of vipers who’d massacred his family, preparing to marry the one he’d come to believe was the most dangerous of them all.

His bride’s entrance was hardly marked. There was no sudden hush; for that, you would need noise, and this congregation had more of a funereal feel than anything. There was no outburst of music for her to walk the aisle to.

It was Elio who’d insisted their nuptials take place in the Espositos’ private chapel.

Wherever Lorenzo Esposito’s death had taken him – that it was hell was not in dispute, but which circle of hell he did not know – marrying Lorenzo’s pride and joy, his only daughter, within the hallowed walls of his fiefdom made him feel closer and made this moment taste even sweeter.

You might be dead, old man, he thought, but my vengeance will follow you into the deepest circle of hell and increase your torment. May you never rest for a solitary second in peace.

The first part of his vengeance was marrying the dead man’s beloved daughter, and as she walked towards him, her beautiful face with the voluptuous lips that matched her small, voluptuous body stony, he smiled.

The first part of his vengeance was going to taste very sweet indeed.

* * *

Sienna walked the aisle with her stare fixed on her youngest brother, Rico.

She wouldn’t look at anyone else, especially not her groom or his family, whose eyes she could feel burning into her like lasers.

Rico had always been the one she’d been closest to, the one full of devilish mischief who could make her smile whatever her mood.

Recently, he’d gone and fallen in love with an angel disguised in human form and stepped away from the family business for his angel’s sake, but he hadn’t abandoned his family.

He was here, in the chapel, giving Siena his silent support.

If she hadn’t been determined to walk the aisle alone, she’d have asked Rico to give her away.

For this wedding, walking the aisle to her groom alone was as big a statement of intent as her navy trouser suit. Siena was no one’s possession to give away or claim, and when she took her place next to Elio, she faced the priest without sparing her groom a glance.

She hated looking at him at the best of times, and this was the worst of them.

Wearing her best poker face, she recited her vows mechanically and made sure not to react at all to the mocking tone Elio made his with. She found his smooth-as-chocolate voice as loathsome as everything else about him.

The legal stuff taken care of, Siena fixed a hard stare on the priest, daring him to disobey her instructions.

There was no legal requirement for a bride and groom to seal their union with a kiss, and she was damned if she would let those filthy Ranieri lips anywhere near hers, not now or ever.

This union would be one made only on paper.

She’d struggled enough with the thought of giving her virginity to Niccolo Martinelli. She was damned if she would give it to the monster that was Elio Ranieri.