PROLOGUE #3
“Chiara. Chi.” My cousin’s deep voice and hand at my elbow break me from my spiraling thoughts. I turn to face him and look down at where his hand wraps around the crook of my elbow. I must have momentarily zoned out completely because I don’t even recall seeing him move over to me.
“You doing okay? Have you had something to drink or eat today? You need to keep your energy and sugar levels up,” he tells me, concern etching his face.
“No, I don’t have an appetite.”
AJ clearly finds the answer unacceptable and gently pulls me towards the kitchen.
He pours me an espresso from the traditional silver coffee pot sitting on the stove and hands it to me with a lemon biscuit, probably made by one of the old women down the street.
Like biscuits and tears are going to bring my parents back.
“Come on, Chi. Quickly have the coffee and biscuit before we get in the car,” AJ urges.
“We need to stick to the timings the security teams have given us and travel in convoy together. Make no mistake, we might be at a funeral, but we still must remain vigilant. Mob business doesn’t stop to mourn, so you can bet there will be friends and foe in attendance today. ”
While AJ and his brothers were always groomed to join the family business, my parents tried to shield me from the dark realities of it.
Let me enjoy the light-filled sweetness of my youth.
And I played the part perfectly in my virginal white dresses and pretty bows, my perceived innocence convincing them they didn’t need to hold onto the reins too forcefully.
Except, it seems you can’t escape the life you’re born into or genes infected with darkness.
So underneath all that sweetness was a girl who craved the forbidden like an alcoholic craves the next drink.
And now the only two people who truly loved her have paid the ultimate price.
I’m chewing the last mouthful of dusty, dry biscuit when Uncle Gino walks into the kitchen.
His tall, broad frame is imposing, and there’s no doubt his gun is tucked safe somewhere beneath his bespoke black suit.
He’s a man of many contradictions. Revered and feared.
Ruthless but also generous and warm-hearted towards those in his inner circle.
One that now sees me at the center of it, given I’ll be living under his roof.
I could rebel; I’m legally an adult, so don’t need to heed the directive to stay under his care until I’m twenty-four, but the only other person I would have considered running to turned out to be the devil in disguise.
I’m not sure I trust my judgement anymore.
“Cara mia.” My uncle’s deep voice pulls me back to the present, those two words a reminder of the last letter my mama penned to me, causing my eyes to sting with tears again.
He envelops my small hands with his and stares down at me, his piercing green eyes the same color as my dad’s.
His stoic expression softens momentarily as he takes me in, and I can see the tinge of sadness, but not enough to show any signs of weakness.
He’s burying his last remaining bother today, but in no way burying the hatchet that would end this decades-long war between the Gigioliotti and Rizzo families.
“We must leave now,” he says softly. “You will travel with me and AJ. Christian and Matteo are coming straight from the airstrip. They just flew in. We have security flanking us, and the church is swarming with our men and the best security team from New York. I won’t let anything happen to you, Chiara.
I promised your parents that much. Revenge will come. But first we must honor their souls.”
I let him guide me to the front door, my cousin AJ falling into step on my other side.
The second I step out, four more men dressed top to toe in black come to flank us, two on each side, creating a human barrier as I’m escorted to the waiting black Bentley that’s idling behind the hearse carrying the bodies of my parents.
I’m not sure how it’s possible, but I feel like I’m floating through time and being crushed by a ten-ton weight all at once.
My eyes land on the lush red roses atop their matching black lacquered caskets, a stark reminder of the blood shed already and what I can only guess is more to come.
When will it end? The senseless loss of life. The revenge. This family curse.
It occurs to me that I’m now the only female Gigioliotti left, flanked by my sole remaining relatives.
The twins Matteo and Christian on one side and my uncle and AJ, his carbon copy, on the other.
I know in this moment, the small freedoms I once had will be hard fought for now.
I refuse to let the family curse take from me what my mother and father died for.
I just need to get through today and use the years I have ahead of me to plot my next move.
One way or another, I will get to New York and build a future in the city that never sleeps.
In fact, I swear on my parents’ life, I’ll make it happen.
And maybe, just maybe, I’ll find a love so deep I’d even die for it.
Just like my mama.