Chapter 1
One
LULU
“I’m going to be late for class,” I announce as I walk into the kitchen, where I’ve been summoned to have breakfast with my father.
I have no interest in sitting anywhere near that man. Ever. I can’t stand him.
He doesn’t particularly like me, either, and he doesn’t pull any punches with that. Literally. I still have bruises on my back from the last time I got in his way.
I’d like to avoid him as much as possible.
So why does he want to enjoy a meal with me now?
“Sit,” he says, pointing at the seat across from him, where eggs, potatoes, bacon, and toast are already piled up just the way I like them, thanks to Iris, our housekeeper and cook. She’s bustling about the kitchen, pretending not to listen. “You’re not going to class today.”
I don’t trust this man, and I never cross him.
So I sit.
Dad’s dressed in his black suit, the way he is every day. I’ve never seen him out of a suit in my life. Not once.
And the handgun on the table to his right is completely normal too. He doesn’t know it, but I learned to shoot a gun just like it. Just in case. Because in this world I’m from, you never know when you’ll need to protect yourself.
Or from whom.
“It’s a nice morning,” I say, trying to fill the quiet until he decides to tell me what’s happening.
I do not want to miss class today. Dad thinks that I’m in college to get a business degree.
I’m not.
For the first year, I was enrolled in a culinary program. The second year, I learned massage therapy. My third year, I studied goldsmithing. I have a thing for sparklies.
And this year? I decided to submerge myself in all things alcohol.
Because why not?
I’m at the top of my mixology class, and it’s freaking fascinating. A lot of chemistry is involved with alcohol. Making it, mixing it. You name it.
It’s more than just shaking up some margarita mix with tequila and pouring it into a salt-rimmed glass over ice.
Not that my father will ever know about any of that. He had strict guidelines about where and what I should study. Thankfully, his accountant pays the college directly, so the asshole in front of me is none the wiser.
He might just pick up that handgun and press it to my temple if he got even a whiff of what I’ve been studying.
And given I’m only allowed to leave the house without a guard for class, I plan to keep it that way. Not that he gives a shit about me anyway.
“Excellent morning,” he agrees, watching me with hard, dark eyes. I don’t remember a time in my life when my father looked at me with kindness. “You’ll need to change into something more appropriate. Slacks at the very least. A dress is better.”
I do my best to keep my face neutral. My father hates emotions. “Are we going somewhere?”
My mom died when I was young. When I turned sixteen, it became my job to be my dad’s plus-one to every social event you can think of.
And because my father ranks so high in the Italian Mafia, there are a lot of events to attend.
I hate them. I’m not friends with anyone, I don’t have anything in common with any other women there, and I absolutely despise small talk.
I’d rather be the one behind the bar, mixing drinks.
But since I’ve been in college, my father hasn’t expected me to be on his arm quite as often, and I’ve welcomed the reprieve. It’s why he’ll think that I’m getting an MBA for the next two years.
I hate being a socialite.
“You are going somewhere,” he replies calmly and cuts a piece of bacon with his knife and fork—who eats like that?—and puts it in his mouth. “I’ve agreed to an arrangement.”
My potato-loaded fork stops halfway to my mouth.
No.
With my blood running cold, I shake my head, but he keeps talking.
“This partnership will benefit the family. Adam Damien will be a decent husband, and you’ll give him babies so we both have an heir. It’s mutually beneficial.”
I would rather die.
I have no idea who Adam Damien is.
And I don’t want to.
I’m still shaking my head.
“You knew this was inevitable, Eloise.” He leans back, obviously bored with me, convinced he’ll get his way. “This is our world. You’re twenty-three. Most girls have been married off by the time they’re your age.”
“But I just—my education.”
“I don’t think they’ll miss you in your bartending school.”
My eyes fly up to his, and he smirks.
“Did you think I didn’t know about all of that nonsense? That I don’t have you followed to make sure you’re safe? Come on, you know better than that, cara mia.”
My shoulders roll forward as fear wraps its talons around my neck. Christ, he knew?
“I let you have your balordo classes, but it’s time for that to end and for you to do your duty to this family. Damien and his men will be here in less than an hour, and you’ll go with them. Move in with him so you can get to know each other better before the wedding next month.”
Bile rises in the back of my throat. “Can’t I just get to know him by going on regular dates?”
Dad shakes his head. “He wants you under his roof to keep an eye on you. I don’t have a problem with that.”
I blink at him. “So you sold me.”
I never speak out against my father like this, but holy shit, he sold me!
He lets out an aggravated breath, and I know I’m pushing him too far. “You’ve always been so damn dramatic. I arranged a good marriage for you. You should be grateful. Damien is a powerful man, Eloise. You’ll be well taken care of.”
I shake my head again, on the verge of tears. “No. You can’t do this. I’m not marrying him, Dad.”
If I thought his eyes were cold before, that’s nothing compared to the glare he’s aimed at me now.
“Yes. You are.”
“I won’t—”
Slap.
He backhands me across the face, making me see stars, and my jaw immediately aches. There’s a coppery taste in my mouth from my tooth cutting the inside of my cheek.
God, he’s strong.
“You’ll shut the fuck up and do as you’re told for once in your fucking life, Eloise. There will be no discussion. Playtime is over.”
“Dad—”
He raises his arm again, and I flinch back. And for once, he doesn’t follow through.
You concerned about the number of bruises this time, Papa?
“Go change your clothes,” he says, dismissing me. “Do something with your hair. If you could lose thirty pounds in the next hour, that would help.”
He’s such a fucking prick.
Standing, I rush from the room and up to my bedroom with an aching jaw as my mind whirls.
The men in my father’s world are cruel. Violent.
And they treat women like we’re disposable pets.
If he thinks that I’ll marry some rich Mafia dude that he’s chosen for me, he’s a fool.
I don’t trust my father regarding anything in this life, particularly in his matchmaking skills.
I bet this Adam Damien would beat me more than Dad does, and it would probably be way worse. He’d probably—
I don’t want to think about it.
I have to run away, and I’ve been preparing for this moment for the past two years.
I may not know everything about my father’s business, but I know enough. I had a fake ID made, and I’ve been squirreling away cash. I only have a few thousand, but it’ll be enough to get me to a different city.
Do people still ride buses?
I’ll find a bus.
“Not with this.” I set my old cell phone on the nightstand and instead turn on the burner phone I bought. I actually have three of them, just in case.
I didn’t know what just in case was. I figured I’d know it when I saw it.
And I’m looking at it right now.
I toss the phones, wallet with my new ID and cash, and some essentials like one set of clothes, underwear and deodorant, a toothbrush and my comb into my backpack. I take the back staircase down to the kitchen, planning to go out the back door, but Iris is kneading dough.
“Eloise,” she says, narrowing her eyes as they fall to the bag on my shoulder.
She heard my conversation with my father, and she’s not a stupid woman. She might be the only person in this world who’s ever truly loved me. Who’s ever shown me affection of any kind. Will he hurt her when I’m gone?
“I have to go,” I tell her and rush over to embrace her. “I love you, but I have to go. You don’t have to do anything. Just say you never saw me if anyone asks.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “Oh, baby doll. You call me when you get where you’re going.”
I nod, but we both know I won’t.
If I did, my father’s men might find me.
I hug her again, then wink at her and press my finger to my lips before rushing out the back door.
There’s a path I’ve taken often during my life that leads right into town. I always took this path when I needed to sneak away for a quiet afternoon. I got in trouble for it, too, but that didn’t stop me from doing it.
Later, after I find the bus station and am headed out of Reno, I take a long, deep breath.
What the hell do I do now?