Chapter 1
1
FIVE YEARS LATER
CELIA
I ’m not a morning person, but sometimes one must plot a little murder before eight a.m.
If my father or my brother, Royal, realized what I was planning, I’d already have been buried. Just like the one and only man I ever loved.
Morning in our garden was idyllic. Vibrant bursts of flowers bloomed along the well-manicured paths. I cradled my mug of coffee for warmth, and steam curled into the air as I settled onto my favorite wrought iron bench.
The bobbing heads of pink roses surrounded me as if nothing terrible could ever have happened here. As if no one had ever been murdered on this lush green grass.
“Celia!” Royal’s sharp voice cut through my reverie.
I jumped, my heart suddenly racing. Then I fixed a smile on my face, though I was sure it was too late to convince my brother. He knew—and hated—me too well.
He always carried himself with austere grace, as if he thought he was heir apparent to the British kingdom and not to my father’s legacy of brutality. He stopped in front of me as if he were posing for a menswear magazine—one hand in his pocket, his suit buttoned up, even though it was too fucking early for uncomfortable clothes. His ridiculous pose would’ve made me laugh, because everything about Royal could’ve been a joke, if he weren’t so dangerous.
“Gabriel Caruso will be here for a meeting today,” he told me in the same curt tone he always used for me.
I hadn’t heard that name in a long time.
Royal frowned, as if he had seen something on my face that he didn’t like, and I smoothed my features into my usual bland, pretty smile. “I understand.”
His gaze swept over me, lingering on my leggings with barely concealed disdain. “Try not to embarrass us.”
Irritation and other, deeper, sadder emotions flared to life. I masked them with practiced indifference. Was a woman always supposed to be made up in Louboutins and a bodycon dress? I was in my home. Everyone loves leggings.
“Of course,” I replied.
He scoffed, as if my behavior wasn’t a given. “You always had that embarrassing crush on him.”
Heat tinged my cheeks despite myself. “It’s been years since I last saw him. I don’t feel anything for him now.”
Royal’s eyes were cold and calculating. “You always humiliated yourself. Gabriel doesn’t seem to like anyone very much…but he has certainly never liked you.”
I sipped my coffee. I didn’t taste it, but at least I didn’t react to him.
“And why would he?” He went on. “You were always chasing after him and his little brothers like a slut.”
I stared over his shoulder, nodding faintly. Let him vent his poison. I didn’t have a choice anyway.
Royal’s lips twisted into a smirk. “You’ll really take any insult like the spoiled little lap dog you were raised to be, won’t you?”
Sometimes, ignoring your bullies wasn’t enough.
But I wasn’t in a position to strike at him. Not yet.
“I was raised by the same man you were.” I still had my hands wrapped around my mug, but it had already gone cold.
“But for different purposes. Your only job is to look pretty, not embarrass the family, and marry well.” He cast his critical gaze over me. “So far, you seem to be failing on all fronts.”
“Sorry,” I said, because that was what he wanted to hear.
As Royal studied me, I hated that he had our mother’s prominent cheekbones and long, straight nose. We both favored her. We both had her hazel eyes, and thanks to the power of hair dye, I shared her pale-blond hair. But Mom never would’ve looked at me with my brother’s eye-narrowed disdain.
“Make sure you change into something decent looking.”
“Why?” I was never around when Royal and my father were conducting their business. I was expected to disappear.
Royal frowned at me. Speaking as if I were exceptionally dull, he said slowly, “Because you represent the family.”
“Yes, of course. But I assume Gabriel isn’t meeting with me .”
“Father expects you to be a good hostess.” He sneered. “You need to contribute to the family. You can’t spend all your life shopping and wasting time.”
Hostess . The weight of those expectations—undefined and heavy at the same time—suffocated me. So many things could go wrong.
I rose from the bench, feeling unexpectedly shaky at the thought of seeing, and perhaps failing in front of, Gabriel. “What time?”
Royal glanced me over as if he could see right through me. “Gabriel’s not going to like you any better now than when we were all kids.”
“Okay?” It seemed important to Royal, as it always was, that everyone despised me just as he did. But that was irrelevant to whether or not I served snacks and made their drinks and then melted away into the background.
Royal lunged and caught my arm. His fingers sank into my skin, bruisingly hard, before he dragged me a step toward him. I struggled before conscious thought kicked in, yanking away even though his fingers tightened, digging painfully into my flesh. I let my pain show on my face, wincing; through my narrowed vision, I could see his flash of satisfaction.
I couldn’t escape Royal, which was exactly why I had to kill him.
“Don’t get smart with me,” he snarled. “Just because Amato’s missing doesn’t mean you can start to act up.”
Just the mention of Amato made me stiffen. Maybe Royal saw the flash of fear across my face and was satisfied, because he let me go.
“Ten o’clock. Wear something presentable for once.”
As he turned and walked away, I rubbed my sore arm; his fingers had left grooves in my skin that would turn to bruises.
Royal was always the golden child. When we were little, Father would ruffle his hair with pride glinting in his eyes. But our father’s gaze always turned icy when it landed on me. He never touched me. He didn’t ruffle my hair. He didn’t even deign to hit me himself…he had his hired men hurt me. For the last several years, that had been Amato, my missing bodyguard.
When we were little and our father had launched into one of his cruel verbal attacks, Royal would stand there, silent, with a smug look on his face that told me he believed we both deserved our treatment. He deserved to be the little prince, and I deserved to be treated like trash.
Now he was all grown up and experienced the joy of treating me like trash himself.
I’d always been jealous of the way the Caruso brothers seemed to love each other. Royal was right about one thing; I’d had an embarrassing crush on Gabriel, who was cool and handsome. Catching his attention always felt like winning a prize, especially when he smiled one of his rare smiles. The middle brother, Lorenzo, had seemed to charm everyone…including me. Eventually, I’d fallen in love with David, the youngest brother of their family, who was quick-witted and funny, dangerous but gentle with me. All the time, I’d wanted to be part of a family like theirs.
Now David was gone, and in the aftermath, Lorenzo had turned his back on Gabriel. No one had seen Lorenzo since David’s funeral.
I sighed and headed for the house, to try to make myself look like the perfect mafia daughter.
I wasn’t cooking for Gabriel Caruso.
I didn’t need to open myself up to any more criticism.
Instead, I went to talk to our private chef—who was just arriving for the day, since even a man like my father could make his own coffee—before I dressed for the day. Our father liked to lock the doors and make sure no one could enter the house, even our supposedly trusted staff.
I made my way downstairs, keenly aware that Royal and my father would be judging me. But they weren’t in the foyer yet as I came down the sweeping staircase.
One of our guards swung the front door open.
Gabriel Caruso stepped back into my life.
From where I stood on the stairs, I looked down at him, but he was still unusually tall. When we were teenagers, he and his brothers stood head and shoulders above everyone else. His dark suit clung to his broad shoulders and cut away over the lean line of his waist. For a second, I felt the same thrill of longing I always had when I looked at him.
His gaze cut across the foyer as he moved into our home, all predatorial grace. That split-second thrill settled into something else—the sense of prey with a predator.
As soon as I took another step, his gaze swept up to mine. Steely blue eyes, unexpected under his perfectly styled dark hair and a pair of determined eyebrows, seemed to pierce right through me.
“Celia.” His voice was dark, warm, and sexy. Deeper than it had been when we were teenagers. It touched my body like a palm running down my back.
He remembered me. Recognized me. That shouldn’t be surprising since I recognized him, but then, I’d once written Mrs. Celia Caruso in my notebook during Algebra class.
But I’d only written it as a joke for my friends.
Yeah, right.
“Gabriel.” I glanced down, at the steps, suddenly afraid I’d fall down this entire flight of stairs. Navigating the world in two-and-a-half-inch-tall Louboutins was hard enough, but when Gabriel looked at me, I felt off-balance. I kept my gaze down as I descended, trying to steady myself.
When I reached the bottom and raised my eyes, I found myself staring at a crisp, tailored shirt across a broad chest. I looked up, drawing in a breath of surprise to find him standing so close.
Those magnetic blue eyes almost made me lose all my thoughts. My childhood crush reached up from the grave and tried to drag me back down into my former Gabriel Caruso obsession.
But I managed to smile at him. “Welcome to our home. It’s good to see you again.”
His eyes glinted. “It has been a while. What have you been doing since you graduated?”
David hadn’t been alive to graduate with our class. The thought instantly smothered that brief fire.
“Leading a very dull life compared to you, I’m sure.” I was always followed by my bodyguard, who only left me alone to talk to the other dull daughters. What damage could a bunch of spoiled mafia princesses ever do together?
“That’s wise of you. Excitement is overrated.”
“Royal and my father will join us in a moment,” I said. “Can I show you to the study? Get you something to drink?”
He raised his hand, gesturing toward the study. “Lead on.”
As I led him down the hall, I discovered an entirely new set of insecurities, and I’d already thought I had catalogued every possible one. Was I swaying my hips in a weird way? How did I walk normally? Royal’s words had made me feel uncomfortable around Gabriel, even more so than I would have already. I didn’t want Gabriel to think I had a crush on him. I felt flustered by this man in my own house, as if I might get lost in familiar hallways. But then, I was always on edge in this house. At least this tension was novel.
I pushed open the door to the study, half-expecting to see Royal and my father there waiting, with their cigars and their glasses of expensive Scotch that I wasn’t convinced anyone actually liked. I’d take a nice sangria—or any sangria at all—over a four-hundred-dollar bottle of Scotch.
But the study was all dark wood and leather and solitude. I glanced back down the hallway, knowing one of the guards who let Gabriel in also would’ve announced his arrival to my father. What was I supposed to do with Gabriel Caurso?
“Scared to be alone with me?” he asked as he settled into one of the club chairs next to the cold fireplace.
What ? Right, I was still lingering in the doorway. “No, not at all. What would you like to drink?”
He waved his hand dismissively. “Whatever you’re making for yourself.”
“I can make whatever you want.”
He sat back, raising a chiseled eyebrow.
“I don’t drink anything classy,” I warned him.
He gave me a look that I couldn’t quite read. “Whatever you would like, Celia.”
I looked over the six figures’ worth of alcohol in the bar cart, then shrugged and used Beluga Epicure—ten thousand dollars—and El Dorado rum—five thousand dollars—to mix up Long Island iced teas. I wouldn’t have known the value of any of this stuff, except Royal talked about it obsessively. I plunked cherries into both our drinks and another one into my mouth, then turned to him, sucking on the cherry.
His gaze fell to my lips, and the quickest flash of an expression crossed his handsome features. It made my stomach bottom out again, but in a completely different way.
As I handed him the drink, his long, lithe fingers brushed mine. He didn’t seem to notice, but I was still thinking about his touch as he said, “You were not kidding.”
“Fond memories,” I said, without thinking.
His gaze turned sharp as it met mine, and I swallowed. But he just clinked his glass against mine, then took a sip. “It does taste like nostalgia, doesn’t it? Have you been going to school?”
“No.”
“Did you ever think about going to college?”
“Yes. But it’d be a logistical nightmare with the bodyguards.”
“Didn’t yours go missing?”
“Yes.” Maybe I shouldn’t admit to the absence of my longterm bodyguard with someone I was sure was our enemy. But there was no point in hiding it. Amato’s absence had to be known by now.
He nodded. “If you did go to college, what would you study?”
“If we lived in a different world where college was remotely useful?”
“Being well-educated would make you a better wife.”
I laughed. It burst out of my chest, unwelcomed, and I choked trying to hold it back. “Maybe. I suppose that depends on your perspective.”
Gabriel studied me in a way that made my stomach dip once more. “I’d like an intelligent, worldly wife.”
That would be the opposite of my sheltered self.
Just then, Royal and my father entered. The three of them greeted each other and shook hands, while I settled into the background. I felt stupid now holding my drink. I set it down on the bar cart, not wanting it any longer anyway.
“What were you two talking about?” my father asked, giving me an amused, indulgent smile, which he then turned on Gabriel.
It was a smile I’d never seen directed my way before.
Alarm bells began to rise in my mind like a siren.
“Celia and I were discussing the merits of education.” His gaze seemed to invite me to join in the joke.
“Is that so?” My father directed an amused, quizzical look between us both. “And what did you decide?”
My stomach soured, trying to figure out the right answer. Everyone seemed to be scrutinizing me.
“I would love to marry a woman who would be a worthy ally,” Gabriel spoke before I could decide what to say. “Or a worthy opponent, depending on the situation.”
Royal scoffed a laugh. Gabriel gave him a look that seemed to encompass a world of judgment. But I felt as if I’d been rescued.
“Celia is very bright,” my father said, his eyes warming as they roamed my face.
I felt a sudden swell of warmth in my chest before I choked on it. Maybe it was just heartburn. I knew my father too well to fall for this sudden kindness.
“I remember,” Gabriel said the words simply, as if they were undeniable.
It felt as if I had stepped into an alternate version of my life. Into my dreams . But that could not be real. I decided to retrieve my drink from the bar cart.
Royal was watching me, his eyes narrowed. I had the feeling it took great effort for him to keep his poison tongue curled behind his bright-white veneers.
The conversation moved on between the men as my mind reeled. I expected my father to dismiss me, but he eyed me meaningfully, then glanced at the couch alongside Gabriel.
I moved to the other side of the couch, then sat down stiffly. I held the drink in my lap, my back ramrod straight. My old ballet teacher would’ve been pleased.
Gabriel glanced at me sideways, and his lips quirked slightly. “What do you think, Celia? Do you think our new mayor is going to reform the city?”
“I’m sure she’s as thoroughly owned by someone, somewhere, as our last mayor,” I said lightly, echoing the words I’d heard from my father.
Gabriel leaned back in the couch. Unlike me, he seemed at home here in our den. “Wasn’t that you, Mal? Who so thoroughly owned the last mayor?”
“We had a good working relationship. I was disappointed he didn’t win re-election.”
That was an understatement. My father had invested millions into the mayor.
“People seem excited about this new mayor,” Gabriel observed blandly.
He was baiting my father, wasn’t he? I licked my lips nervously, feeling caught in a conversation I didn’t understand.
“She’s brainless,” Royal said dismissively. “She’ll bow like any other.”
“Most likely,” Gabriel said. “Still, she has quite the history as a community organizer. Were you following any of her work, Celia?”
“No,” I said softly.
I’d read the local news blogs and watched clips of citizen investigation journalism, trying to figure out the secrets in our community I should’ve known as the back-up heir to my father’s empire. But he’d left me hopelessly ignorant.
Did Gabriel realize that?
Gabriel tried to draw me into conversation a few more times after that, but with Royal and my father watching, I didn’t have much to say.
“You don’t follow the underground fights,” he noted when I had zoned out during their discussion of bets placed.
I felt no draw to see men hurt each other like that. I’d seen enough violence for a lifetime.
But I couldn’t say that in front of these violent men.
“It’s no place for a girl like Celia,” my father said, before I could come up with an answer.
Gabriel’s gaze studied me. Then he turned away, toward my father. He didn’t try to draw me into any more conversation.
It hurt when I felt him give up on me, even though I knew it was for the best.
The memory of that predatorial sense I’d gotten from him when he first came in, before he knew I was watching, kept rising like a ghost, haunting me.
I was scrolling back through our re-introduction, and all the things I wish I’d said or done differently. Then I replayed the way he had gestured down the hall, right to this room. He already knew the layout of our house. I knew he was intelligent, that he had a keen memory, but that level of familiarity made me wonder if he was studying us.
Gabriel Caruso was back in our lives for a reason, and it wasn’t because he wanted my father to play matchmaker.