Chapter 2
Enzo
We were surrounded by our enemies, my father’s men and me.
As the entire theater was trained on the performance unfolding onstage, I was too alert to focus on opera.
From my seat, I scanned the dim auditorium for anything out of the ordinary.
I knew better than to let my guard down in enemy territory.
And so did my security detail. They were nothing more than glorified street thugs, but that was exactly why I had opted for them tonight.
If this was a setup, they wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever was required. Neither would I.
Despite the opera’s security relieving me of my weapons, I was still secretly armed.
Ready to spill Romano blood if they tried to double cross us.
Knowing those treacherous bastards, that was exactly what they planned to do.
They were our arch-rivals. The family we had been at war with all these years.
Years of experience had taught me that the Romano family was capable of anything.
The charred ruins of one of our businesses was proof enough of that.
So was my uncle’s severed hand. The hand incident had been the most recent message the Romanos had sent to us.
A grim, bloody affair that pushed my father into considering the unthinkable: making peace with the Romanos.
Getting a severed hand in the mail had made the old man go soft in my opinion, but even at his softest, my father was still a dangerous man.
Even I did as he ordered, and I took orders from no one.
No one except Don De Luca. That was how powerful my father was, and how high up the food chain I had climbed.
Because I had fucking climbed up every blood-soaked rung.
My father didn’t give this second-in-command position to me.
I took it. I had fought for it, killing everyone in my path to prove that I was worthy.
We weren’t like the Romanos. We didn’t crown next in line.
There was no clear line of succession. After my bloody reign of terror, no one believed my father had bestowed this on me because I was one of his sons.
At least, no one dared to say it out loud.
Every position was earned, with the De Lucas and our associates fighting amongst ourselves.
And I had maimed and killed my share of associates to get to this point, displaying far more barbarity than was required.
The result had been total capitulation from my peers and my father’s grudging respect.
Don De Luca’s respect had made me feel invincible.
The world was mine when I became second-in-command.
That power fueled me, until I discovered that power didn’t mean I could do whatever I wanted the way I used to.
Power, as it turned out, was just a euphemism for burden. For obligation.
As a De Luca, I had been raised to wipe out all enemies, yet here I was at the Romano opera house.
If my presence hadn’t been negotiated down to the last detail, I would have been a dead man the moment I stepped into the auditorium, weapons be damned.
But all of this had been arranged. I was here to meet my future bride, after all. She was my burden.
This arranged marriage to the Romano girl was my father’s Machiavellian plan to stop the cycle of bloodshed between our families.
Thinking of her made my entire body go tense in my seat.
My jaw clenched against the resentment building inside me.
I did not fucking want this. What man would?
Being tied down was bad enough. But being tied down to a woman not of my choosing?
I was tempted to hope that the Romanos would simply shoot me instead.
My father’s orders and my family’s future were the only reasons I could stomach being here.
Not only was she not of my choosing, I had never actually met her. An inconvenient fact that made me turn to look up at one of the private boxes above the auditorium. The Romanos were above, while I was below. A reminder that this was their house, not mine.
I can make it mine when I marry the daughter.
There she was, sitting like a queen on a throne.
Valentina Romano. Too far up to see clearly, but I knew from her photographs that she was beautiful.
Starting with her luxurious golden hair, down to that swanlike neck, followed by an expanse of cleavage thanks to her low-cut dress, she was a vision even at this distance.
In truth, my bride was exquisite. Delicate as a lily and based on her reputation, as poisonous as one too.
Only the most devious, scheming woman could find success in the male-dominated criminal underworld.
No doubt she used everything her advantage, including her beauty.
Under different circumstances, I would happily take her to my bed.
But it was an engagement that was tying us together, not a one-night stand.
Though I should have been grateful that my future wife was beautiful, looks were not a good reason for marriage.
And some of my father’s other arguments weren’t good reasons either.
An attempt to preserve my uncle’s remaining hand was a terrible fucking reason to exchange vows with a stranger, but my father had always been protective of his brother, the same way I was protective of my brothers.
We could accept a few dead associates when the Romanos came after us, but one drop of De Luca blood spilled was intolerable to us.
Besides, only a coward shirked familial duty.
Marrying the Romano girl would maintain peace between our feuding clans. Put an end to the escalating reprisals. It would also put an end to my freedom.
For my entire adult life I could have any woman I wanted, and women were always eager to be with me.
Women liked a bit of danger. Yet now, with a wedding on the horizon, my wild, bachelor lifestyle was over.
I had no intention of being unfaithful to Don Romano’s daughter.
For one thing, angering her would doom the marriage, destroying the entire point of the whole damned enterprise.
For another, if we were going to have children, cheating would be a huge obstacle.
No wife was going to want to go to bed with an unfaithful husband, and stepping out on a Romano bride could get me killed.
If after having children, the marriage didn’t work, then we could make an arrangement. With both of us free to bed whoever we wanted years down the line. Surely, she couldn’t object to that. The chance to be free in middle age at least.
Without warning, a silence fell over the auditorium. The singing had stopped and then, filling the silence, the sound of applause. Dim lights came on, giving me a chance to glance at my watch. Intermission. This tedious performance was only half over.
Cursing under my breath, I shot to my feet and made my way to the concert hall bar upstairs, my security detail struggling to keep up with me.
When I got to the crowded bar, McClain, the family valet, already had drinks laid out for me at a side table.
One gin and one brandy. Enough alcohol to go through with this.
There was too much tension in my shoulders for me to sit down, so I remained standing and picked up a glass.
I knocked back both drinks within 90 seconds, the valet raising his eyebrows.
Though he was a servant, looks were deceiving.
The aging McClain had started as a street thug, served in the military, then rediscovered work on the wrong side of the law after being honorably discharged and down on his luck.
My old man had taken a liking to him, and McClain had served the family since before I was born.
He’d been the one to teach me how to handle a gun.
I didn’t need to ask him if he was still armed too.
I knew he was. If the Romanos were going to strike, the valet would be just as ready as I was.
“Ever been married, McClain?” I asked, setting one of the empty glasses down. “Or engaged at least?”
McCain let out a bark of laughter. “Hell no.”
I stared down at the empty glasses, waiting for the alcohol to kick in. “Want to take her off my hands?”
“Your father would put us both six feet under,” the valet reminded me, his expression turning serious. “Anyway, you’ve agreed.”
“Can’t go back on my word,” I muttered.
“A real man never does,” McClain said with a nod. “Cold feet already?”
“I’ve never met this woman. Not before tonight,” I answered. “Pity I won’t see her in an unguarded moment.”
“What do you mean?”
“When I meet her later tonight, it’ll be an act,” I explained. “A performance to get what she wants out of me.”
“Can’t trust the Romanos,” the valet said bitterly.
“Agreed. Which means that every moment with her will be calculated and rehearsed. At least until the wedding. Until we get hitched, she’ll always know that she has an audience.”
“Get a look at her before you meet her,” the valet suggested. “If it’ll assuage your fears about her.”
“A closer look at her before we meet,” I repeated, thinking it over in my mind. “Might find a weakness I can use later.”
I didn’t trust Don Romano’s daughter, and any ammo against her could work in my favor down the line. This was a chance to gain the upper hand.
“Just make sure you don’t get caught,” the valet warned.
“I’ll stay out of sight. Just get a look at her as she exits,” I said, coming to a decision. After getting another drink, I headed back to my seat as the opera started up again.