Chapter 1
Gianna
My family was unlike any other. I learned that as I grew older.
Other families are built on love and care. Mine is governed by code and conduct. And I have broken the most important rule of all.
I just didn’t know it yet when I walked back through the side entrance of the estate at four in the morning, smelling like Finn, my hair a mess from his hands.
I didn’t know it when I slipped into bed and stared at the ceiling for an hour, thinking about the shape of his mouth and what it felt like to be wanted. I didn’t know it when I finally slept.
I know it the second I walk into the kitchen at nine.
Vito is standing at the island with a manila envelope in front of him. Rafa is beside him, arms crossed. Marco is on the phone by the window, voice low. No one is eating. No one looks up when I come in.
"Sit down, Gianna," Vito says.
His voice is calm. That's how I know it's bad.
I sit.
He slides the envelope across the marble. I don't want to open it. I already know.
"Open it," he says.
The first photograph is me, walking into Willow Grace Chapel. My hood is up, but you can see my face in profile as I turn to pull the door. The second is me leaving, hours later, my hair down and my hoodie zipper half broken. The third is Finn, in the doorway behind me, shirtless, watching me go.
There's a folded note beneath the photos. The handwriting is neat, almost delicate. I read it twice before the words make sense.
Thought you should see what your little sister does on her nights off. — Regards, The Irish
"Vito." My voice comes out steady, which surprises me. "I can explain."
"Can you?"
"It's not what it—"
"Don't." He doesn't raise his voice. He doesn't need to. "Don't insult me. Just tell me what you told him."
"Nothing. I didn't tell him anything. I would never—"
"Gianna." Rafa's voice is softer than Vito's, but only barely. "Think. What did you talk about."
"We didn't talk about the family. We didn't. I wouldn't—"
Marco ends his call. Something about his expression makes my stomach drop before he says a word.
"Boss." He sets the phone down carefully. "The Hamptons house. Twenty minutes ago. Six men came over the east wall. Dante got Sofia out through the tunnel. She's safe. Two of ours are down."
The kitchen goes very quiet.
Vito doesn't look at Marco. He doesn't look at the photos. He looks at me.
"Gianna," he says, and this time his voice isn't calm anymore. "What. Did you tell him."
My mouth is dry. I'm trying to remember. I'm trying to think back through every word I've said in that bed, and the one that keeps rising to the surface is Sofia's been moved again. She hates it out there.
"Oh god," I whisper.
"Say it."
"I didn't—I didn't tell him where. I just said she'd been moved. I said she hated the Hamptons. I didn't think—"
I can't finish. There's nothing to finish. I didn't think is the whole sentence, and we all know it.
Vito closes his eyes. For a second I think he might hit me. I almost wish he would. Instead he exhales, long and slow, and when he opens his eyes again something in them has shut.
"Get out of my sight," he says quietly. "Go to your room. Don't leave it. Don't call anyone. Don't speak to anyone until I tell you you can."
"Vito, please—"
"Out."
I stand up. My legs barely hold me. As I reach the doorway, Vito speaks again, quieter, almost to himself.
"She's eighteen, Gianna. Sofia is eighteen. If they'd gotten her—"
He doesn't finish that sentence either.
I don't sleep that night. I spend it in my room pacing, sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at the wall. Trying to understand how a single sentence, spoken half-asleep into the chest of a man I thought I loved, has ended up with six Irishmen coming over a wall in the Hamptons.
The sun comes up. I don't move.
Around noon, there's a knock at my door. I expect Vito. Instead, Rina slips inside, closing the door behind her with a soft click.
She doesn't say anything at first. Just looks at me with those steady brown eyes that have seen worse than this and survived it.
"He wants to see you," she says finally. "Downstairs. His office."
My stomach drops. "Is he sending me away?"
"Just go, Gianna."
I follow her down the hall, down the stairs, through the estate that suddenly feels twice as big and ten times emptier. When we reach Vito's office, Rina knocks once and pushes the door open.
Vito is behind his desk. Marco stands by the window. Rafa leans against the wall, arms crossed. The three of them look like they've been talking for hours.
"Sit," Vito says.
I sit.
He studies me for a long moment, fingers steepled in front of him. Then he leans back in his chair.
"I've been thinking about what to do with you," he says. His voice is calmer than it was yesterday, but there's still an edge to it. "My first instinct was to ship you somewhere and leave you there until you learned what loyalty means."
I swallow hard but don't speak.
"But Marco reminded me of something." Vito glances at Marco, who nods slightly. "The Irish sent those photos for a reason. They wanted me to know you've been with Finn Costello. They wanted me to react. To punish you. To exile you."
I blink. "I don't understand."
"They're watching us, Gianna. They know our movements, our safe houses, our weaknesses. And now they know you." He pauses. "Which means you're a liability. Or..."
He lets the word hang there.
"Or?" I whisper.
"Or you're an opportunity."
My heart starts pounding.
Rafa speaks up from the wall. "Finn Costello has feelings for you. That much is obvious from the way he looked at you in that photograph. And if the Irish sent those photos, they already suspect something between you two."
"They wanted you exiled," Marco adds. "Which means they see you as a threat to them somehow. Maybe because you could get close to Finn. Maybe because they think you already have."
Vito leans forward. "So here's what's going to happen. You're going to give them exactly what they wanted."
"I don't—"
"You're going to run to him, Gianna. You're going to show up at Finn Costello's door, frightened and alone, and you're going to tell him Vito found out and cast you out. That you have nowhere else to go. That you need his protection."
The room seems to tilt.
"You want me to spy on them," I say slowly.
"I want you to survive," Vito corrects. "And while you're surviving, you're going to pay attention. You're going to listen. You're going to find out what the Costellos are planning, who their allies are, where their weak points are. And you're going to report back to me."
"And if they figure out what I'm doing?"
Vito's expression doesn't change. "Then you'd better make sure they don't."
I look at Rina, hoping for some kind of reassurance, some sign that this is insane. But she just nods slightly, like this is the only option that makes sense.
"How do I even...how do I contact you?" I ask.
Marco pulls a small phone from his pocket and slides it across the desk. "Burner. One contact. Me. You check in once a week, more if you have something urgent. You don't call from the Costello estate. You find an excuse to leave, you go somewhere public, you make it quick."
I pick up the phone. It feels like a bomb in my hand.
"When do I leave?" I ask quietly.
"Tonight," Vito says. "Rafa will drive you close enough, but not all the way. You'll have to walk the last mile on your own. Make it look real."
"It will be real," I say, and my voice cracks. "I'm terrified."
For the first time since this meeting started, something softens in Vito's face. Not much. But enough.
"Good," he says. "Use that. Let him see it. Let him think he's saving you." He pauses. "And Gianna? Don't actually fall for him. That's how people like us get killed."
Too late, I think. But I don't say it out loud.
It's been two days since Vito decided my fate.
I scoff, running my hand through my hair. All I wanted my whole life was freedom. The four corners of this room feel like a prison. My life never belonged to me, but somehow I've managed to cage myself even more.
I sigh, letting my forehead rest gently against the cool glass. How did I get myself into this mess?
I peel my head from the glass and return to packing, locking my feelings behind a mental door because I have to focus. I need a plan.
I reach for my phone beside me and scroll through my contacts before settling on Finn's name. My hand hovers over the call icon, thinking of what to say to him.
Would Finn or Declan believe me if I suddenly showed up at their doorstep? Or is exile better than walking straight into danger?
A knock at the door brings me back from my thoughts, and I see my sister-in-law's head pop into the room. Rina's brown, wavy, long hair flows over her shoulder as she glances at my suitcase. She sighs, strolling straight to me.
Behind her are Sofia and my cousin Elena.
"What is this? Some kind of intervention? Too late for that," I joke, adding more clothes into the suitcase, even though my insides feel a mess.
"Gianna," Sofia is the first to speak, her deep green eyes reminding me of Finn in a way I don't like.
I tear my gaze from her. I don't want to think of Finn right now.
"We wanted to talk to you before you left." Rina follows, tucking her hair behind her ear before folding her arms.
I'm not sure what they're here for, an interrogation or perhaps to scold me, whichever it is, I know I owe Sofia an apology. "I'm sorry, Sofia. I didn't think...or know he was going to use the information to attack your safe house," I begin, and Sofia hugs me.
Her touch teases something in me. Guilt, perhaps.
Tears cloud my vision, but I blink them back.
"It's okay. You know now not to trust blindly, and that's what matters. In our world, there's always someone out there to use or take from us, but we need to learn to be smarter than they are," she says, pulling away to meet my face.
"Was the damage severe?"
"No, the safe house took a punch, but we were able to get things under control," Rina answers, her eyes swimming with worry. "I spoke to Vito about the plan. He's convinced this is the best way to turn the situation to our advantage."
I nod, knowing all Vito cares about is keeping our family in power and protecting Rina.
"Vito cares and worries about you. He's just angry, that's all," Rina says, as if she can read my mind.
She doesn't need to speak for Vito, but somehow, she always finds herself doing so. Perhaps it's because she's the only one to see all sides of Vito.
I scoff. "Vito is always angry." Everyone smiles, and I turn to Elena. She hasn't said a word since she got here.
"Don't tell me you're missing me already," I tease her, and she rolls her eyes, taking the empty space beside my bed. "I can't believe Vito is sending you into the enemy's lair. We can't protect you from there. I'm just worried."
I swallow. Elena is right. She says everything Rina and Sofia can't bring themselves to say, but I know there's nothing I can do. Once Vito sets his mind to something, he makes sure he sees it through, and this time, I just happen to be caught in it.
"I will be fine," I say, even though I don't sound convincing.
"Gianna..." Elena calls, and I can see the worry on her face.
I force myself to smile. "I will be back soon enough. As soon as Vito is satisfied."
I already feel a mess. I don't want the last night I spent at the estate to be solemn and filled with pity for me. As much as I want nothing to do with my family, and as much as I crave freedom, these women mean a lot to me.
They make life here bearable, and Rina makes my brother somewhat nicer.
Sofia gets to folding my clothes, and Rina sits close to me, holding my hand. "I need you to listen to me." She speaks with so much edge in her voice that I feel like a soldier going to war.
That's probably the perfect description of my situation. "The Irish are far from simple people. They are dangerous, and you need to understand what you're walking into."
"If they sniff out or find out you're a mole..." Rina doesn't have to finish the sentence. I know what my end would be.
"You're scaring her," Elena says.
Rina's gaze moves to Elena and back to me. "I'm preparing her."
I look at Sofia, and she nods.
"You need to play your game right. Vito is letting you go because he found out about your relationship with Finn. You had nowhere to go, nowhere was safe for you, and you know Finn would protect you," Rina says, and I wonder if Finn would protect me.
"You're a damsel in distress. You need to show them you're harmless. That way, they start to trust you. You need to be a step ahead of Declan and Finn."
Sofia cuts in. "They want the same thing you want from them, intel, and they will try to get it from you, but you have to play it smart."
I nod. If I wasn't scared before, which I was, I'm even more scared now. But I know Rina and Sofia are just trying to offer guidance and support. And I know I have to step up.
I can't show weakness.
"Can't I just forget about all this and run away," I joke, even though a part of me means it.
Rina sighs, searching my eyes before pulling her lips into a sad smile.
"Every one of us in this room has felt this way at some point in our lives, but you can't escape reality," Rina says, and Sofia adds. "You need to face your battle; running isn't an option, sweetie."
I turn to Elena. "No words of encouragement?"
"I suck at giving advice. Just don't get yourself killed, okay?"
I smile. "I won't. I will be back soon," I say it as a prayer.
"You better," Elena says.
The four of us spend the rest of the evening and most of the night packing and preparing me for the Irish. There's no better way to spend what might very well be my last night at the estate.