Prologue #2
I could be petty. A few keystrokes and I’d know her life story—where she’s from, who she’s fucking, and why she’s been orbiting Talon like he’s the sun. But after today, that’s not my business. Whatever comes next lands on his shoulders. Not mine.
I shake my head, seeing in her eyes that she’s planning on saying or doing something dumb. It’s obvious. She attempts to shoulder-check me on her way out. I saw it coming a mile away and sidestepped without breaking eye contact with Talon.
I need her gone so I can finish this, grab my things, and leave his life for good.
She pauses just outside the doorway. I hear her step back, feel her get close. Her breath hits the back of my neck as she whispers…
“I won, bitch.”
She wants a reaction. I glance over my shoulder, meet her gaze, and return the smirk. “I’m happy for you. Hope you two are real fuckin’ happy together.” I give her a wink and turn back to Talon—cool, unbothered, dismissing her like the afterthought she is.
His hands twitch, clenching and unclenching, jaw tight, eyes locked on me like he’s seeing a ghost he can’t touch. When she doesn’t get what she came for, she finally leaves.
And now, it’s just me and him.
The man who ruined everything.
And the woman who refuses to break.
I close the door. If this gets out of hand, I don’t need any nosy asses hearing anything either of us says. I let out a breath and my eyes close on their own accord, opening when I hear shuffling. Brian sits at the foot of his bed, hands clasped between his open legs, watching me.
For a split second, I want to be that unhinged girl—the one who screams, throws shit, makes a scene because she caught her man cheating. But I won’t give him that. I won’t give anyone that.
I lock it all up. Tight.
Without a word, I cross the room, my focus on the nightstand. I open my bag and start packing the things I left here, the most important of which is my laptop. I stupidly forgot it last week. That was a rookie mistake, and I knew better. But I trusted Brian.
Not anymore.
I’ll run a full diagnostic the second I get home.
Make sure nothing was tampered with. Papa was tense when I told him I left it here.
I promised him it was locked down, inaccessible.
And if anyone had tried anything, I’d have gotten an alert.
I haven’t—so we’re good. Still, I won’t be careless again. Ever.
As I continue to pack, I ignore the heavy silence between us. I move to the closet, grab my duffel, and stuff it with clothes. Still no words. Just tension, thick enough to slice through.
My mind races as I do what I need to. Young or not, he knew what I expected from him—what I said I wouldn’t tolerate. I asked him, more than once, if he was sure about us. He said he was. But words are cheap. And nothing’s ever guaranteed.
I feel his eyes on me, trailing my every move. He watched me while I headed into the bathroom, brushing past the sting of his gaze. I need a breath. I need a wall between us.
“What are you doing here?” he finally asks, voice tight. “Gabby… I thought you wouldn’t be back for a few more days.”
Bullshit.
His tone betrays him—he’s nervous. He wants to explain. I’m not interested. I scoff, biting my tongue hard enough to taste blood. If I speak now, I’ll say things I’ll never take back. I’ll burn this place down—him with it. So I say nothing.
But then he follows me in. Bold now. Or desperate. Probably both. He stops behind me, too close, crowding my space like he has any right to it. Chest brushing my back. My body remembers him, wants him. That heat, that pull—familiar, addictive.
I hate it.
I fight it.
I force myself to keep moving, gathering the last of my things from the bathroom counter. Breathe in.
Breathe out.
Don’t break.
Don’t bend.
And when I finally look up. He’s watching me through the mirror. That look in his eyes betrays him—one part regret, one part arrogance, all confusion.
Talon stands over six feet. Built like his father, Brick. Same dark hair, same sharp jawline. Eyes like his mother’s—green with gold flecks. He’s easily the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. And right now, I hate that beauty. Hate how much of him I memorized. How much I still feel.
I suck in a breath.
There is no more us.
Talon and I study each other in silence.
His eyes are full of questions, and for the first time, I catch a flicker of regret. But I don’t let myself analyze it. I can’t. It’s too late for that. He doesn’t get anything from me—no emotion, no explanation, no fucking redemption. Not now. Not ever.
Still, I see the questions circling behind his eyes.
What the fuck did I do?
Why is she so calm?
Why isn’t she yelling, crying, or fighting for me?
Have I lost her for good?
The answer? He doesn’t deserve the fight.
I loved him with everything I had. Gave him all of me—faithful, loyal, supportive. I kept one secret, yes. But I never lied. Never strayed. He can’t say the same. So why should I waste another second on a man who proved I meant nothing?
I shake my head, needing to clear it. “My family came back early,” I say quietly, rubbing the tension from my forehead. “I came to surprise you. I had something important to talk about.”
I scoff. “But I guess I’m the one who got surprised, huh?”
My voice doesn’t shake, but my throat tightens around the words. When I look at him, I make sure he sees it—that I’m lost to him. His posture stiffens. His eyes close briefly, and I can see him wrestling with it.
I raise a brow, unimpressed.
“It’s all good, Talon. We had our fun.”
I shrug while my eyes lock onto his. Those green eyes I used to love. Eyes that will probably haunt me for a long, long time.
“We had our fun?” he echoes, stepping back like my words were a slap to the face. He rakes his fingers through his hair, pacing, struggling. For a second, I almost see the weight of it hitting him.
Almost.
His face softens. Like that’s going to work. It won’t because it’s too little, too late.
“I was stupid,” I continue, shoving the last of my stuff into my bag. “I ignored my gut. Trusted you when I shouldn’t have. But that’s on me.”
He tries to speak, but I cut him off with a cold, steady voice. “So, yeah. We had our fun.”
I sling the bag over my shoulder and head toward the door, but his hand snaps around my arm before I make it out. I freeze. Slowly, I look down at his hand, then up at him. My stare is flat. Done.
“Let go.”
He hesitates. Regret flickers again—but it doesn’t matter.
“Look, Talon. I get it. This is club life, right?” I say, voice low. “I’m not what you want. Maybe I never was. I’m not gonna cry or throw a fit. I’m good.”
I say it like a last goodbye. Like I’m burying something that should’ve died a long time ago. A strange calm settles in me, like a weight sliding off my chest. I don’t know if it’ll last. I don’t know if I’ll break down later. But right now? Right now, I’ve got to get the hell out of here.
He pulls me out of the bathroom, still holding on, refusing to let go. My bags weigh down my arms, but I don’t drop them. At the foot of the bed, he stops and faces me.
I meet his eyes. Cold. Blank. I want him to see that I’m not broken—not angry or crying. I hope that’s what I’m showing him. Because the truth is, I’m holding myself together by the thinnest thread.
He drops his hand. Maybe he was expecting something else. A slap, a scream, a breakdown. But I won’t ignore this. Won’t pretend. I made that mistake once—and look where it got me––standing in front of the man I loved while he fucked another woman.
He did it right in my face.
I can’t forgive that. Can’t let him back in just for him to rip me open again with another excuse, another betrayal.
Because that’s exactly what I’ll get—more lies, more bullshit wrapped in weak apologies.
I know how this brotherhood works. I’ve seen firsthand what club life does, and I’m not built to keep swallowing that. I know my worth.
If only he did.
I step back, needing space to say what I needed to say. His nearness still gets to me—it always will. My stomach twists with the thought of a life without him. What I’m about to say isn’t what I should , but love, even unreturned, doesn’t just disappear. And heartbreak? That shit still hurts.
“I loved you,” I whisper. “Gave you everything I had. Young or not, I knew who you were. I knew what this club was. I knew what our life together would’ve looked like, and I was ready for it. I knew you were it for me. Felt it in my bones.”
I pause, glancing around the room. My voice wavers.
“But I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t ready to walk in and see you with someone else. You showed me I’m not it for you. And that’s okay.”
Something breaks within him because a sound comes from his throat—low and pained. I feel it, too. I release a stuttering breath because it’s too late.
I walk toward the door. At the threshold, I turn back one last time, punishing myself by memorizing him. His face. His regret. His destruction. I shift both bags into one hand and grab the doorknob.
“I hope you find someone you can love with your whole heart,” I say, voice calm, but heavy. “Not someone you see as a challenge or a prize. Because not everyone is a game, Talon. Not everyone wants to be conquered. There are consequences. Serious ones. And you need to remember that.”
He inhales sharply. I know he gets it. I know he knows I know.
“I hope you grow up,” I add. “And when you do, maybe it’ll be beautiful. I really do hope that. May the next girl give you all the hell you deserve.”
My voice cracks—barely.
“This…” I point between us. “This could’ve been everything. Could’ve been beautiful , if you weren’t… well, you .”
I gesture to the bed. “That right there? That could’ve cost you more than you’ll ever know. More than just me.”
“Gabriella, don’t—” he starts.
But I’m already walking out. Those are the last words I’ll ever hear from him. I say nothing as I leave the clubhouse. Nothing, as I toss my bags into the back seat. I pause, staring up at the sky. My chest shakes. My throat burns. My eyes sting, but I hold it in.
Not here. Not now.
I climb into the car, start the engine, and pull away.
I make it to the gate before I feel it—the pull.
The voice in my head is begging me to look back.
I fight it. Then I give in. He’s outside.
Talon. A few of his brothers were behind him, watching me leave.
I can’t make out his face completely, but whatever he’s feeling?
It doesn’t matter. His choices brought us here.
Me walking away—that’s the consequence. He could’ve had someone who loved him, utterly and completely. But now?
Too late.
This chapter of my life is over. It’s time I return to who I was always meant to be.
I’m Gabriella Maribel Barone and I’m a motherfucking Mafia Princess who will never allow another man to break me.