Chapter One
Elena
My sisters have always been hopeless romantics.
As teens, they doodled hearts on their notebooks and daydreamed of handsome men sweeping them off their feet.
They would read and write poems, listen to love songs on repeat, and talk about meeting their soulmates.
I figured that with age, those rose-colored glasses would fall and they too would come to realize that love was the oldest scam in the books—a way for men to exert control over women and for women to climb the social ladder.
My youngest sisters never outgrew it. While Gia still believes in love and happily-ever-after, she’s convinced her ballet career comes first—marriage can wait until she’s done dancing professionally.
Not me.
I was the most realistic of my sisters. Having been raised in a cold household where love was absent, I learned pretty young that marriage was simply a contract between two people.
And sex? One didn’t need to be in love to have sex, or else my parents’ loveless marriage would not have produced four daughters.
So, instead of sobbing to love songs like my sisters did, I spent my entire childhood buried in books, reading obsessively about classical art and the Italian Renaissance, focusing on the historical context without romanticizing any of it.
I believed love to be a chemical reaction with a temporary high and an unnecessary distraction—an opinion my older sister didn’t seem to share or else she wouldn’t be getting married again, to the same man, three months after her first wedding.
Sofia’s marriage was arranged—a business deal between two wealthy and powerful families.
She fought it at first. My sister was a romantic who wanted to find her own husband and fall in love naturally, not be sold off like cattle.
The first wedding was more of a formality, a contract signing disguised as a ceremony.
But she fell in love.
I don’t know how or when it happened but Sofia was in love with Matteo Rossi.
A Mafia don who appears to have fallen in love with my sister in turn as he planned this whole surprise second wedding ceremony for her.
A small, intimate beach wedding with a guest list of only ten people.
The four Rossi siblings and their stepbrother Nico, and the five Marinos—myself, my younger sisters Gia and Bella, and our twin cousins Arianna and Matilde.
Still, even a skeptic like me can admit that this comes close to the fairytale wedding my big sister always talked about when we were younger.
“It’s your turn next, Elena,” a voice says from behind me, and I turn to face my younger sister, Gia. “With Sofia settled down, and you being the second oldest, I bet the pressure will be on you to find a guy and get married!”
I shrug off her words and respond as I always do when the topic is brought up. “I’m not interested in marriage, Gia. But you’re only a year younger. Why won’t you be next?”
Gia waves a dismissive hand. “I’m not getting married until I’m done with the stage.
A marriage would only end my career early.
You know how it is—the moment a prima ballerina gets pregnant, her body changes, and that’s it.
I have at least another decade of dancing in me before I even think about settling down. ”
I can’t argue with that logic, but I want to steer as far away from all discussions about marriage as possible—at least in terms of myself.
“Don’t you want what Sofia and Matteo have?” she continues. “True love seems to be working for them. “Wait, I have an idea. Dante has a lot of friends, some of them smart like you. I can ask him to set you up with one of them.”
I raise a single brow at her words. “You and Dante Rossi seem awfully close lately.”
She flushes at the mention of Matteo’s brother.
I’ve observed their closeness for weeks, and contrary to what my sister wants everyone to believe, there is nothing platonic about the way she looks at that man.
I don’t know how I feel about losing another sister to that crime family, though.
Dante’s hands are just as blood-stained as Matteo’s.
“Dante is just a friend.” A tune she’s been singing for weeks, but it sounds less convincing every time she says it. “Don’t change the subject, Elena. One of Dante’s friends is really smart. He’s some kind of engineer. I think he deals with medicine and hospitals—or something like that.”
“A biomedical engineer?”
“Right,” she beams, smiling sweetly at me. “Dante speaks highly of him. You’re really smart too, so you’ll have that in common.”
“I’m not interested in dating anyone, Gia,” I say, turning away from my sister’s excited eyes to watch the married couple sharing their first dance.
Well, their second first dance, seeing this is their Real wedding.
They appear so taken with each other, eyes and arms locked together.
There is this intense heat between them that makes anyone watching feel like they’re intruding, so I turn away to study the wedding party.
Soon, though, my gaze eventually drifts to… him.
The large man standing by a palm tree, dressed in all black…watching me. He’s always watching me with eyes so blue they mirror the ocean behind him.
Roarke O’Shea.
My eyes always seem to drift to my bodyguard, and at first, I rationalized that I was doing so because I am not used to being watched.
I’m the invisible book-smart Marino sister who does the observing.
It’s always me standing in the corner watching people, but even I can admit to myself that isn’t the reason my eyes keep drifting to the man. Not really.
The man is…breathtaking. Standing against the setting sun, his silhouette is all sharp angles and shadows—tall and broad-shouldered.
His raven black hair is slicked back, framing a face of long lines, a chiseled jaw, high cheeks, and a mouth that is always set in a firm line.
But even more startling than his good looks is the way he makes me feel.
I swallow hard and quickly force my eyes away.
No, nope! I’m definitely not attracted to my bodyguard.
That would be so wrong and cliché. Besides, I have my doctorate to focus on, and even if I didn’t have that, I don’t believe in love or whatever other excuse people use to satisfy their carnal needs.
It doesn’t matter that my bodyguard is built like a linebacker with the most stunning ocean blue eyes I have ever seen in my life.
Still, I find my eyes drifting back to him and only snap out of it when a hand clasps mine and I find myself pulled onto the impromptu dance floor. My head whips around to find Sofia’s beaming eyes on mine. “Can you turn off that busy brain of yours for one night and just dance?”
I return her smile as Gia cranks up the music on her phone. Chemical reaction or not, Matteo Rossi must be doing something right. This is the happiest I’ve ever seen my big sister. “This is the wedding you always talked about when we were teens,” I say, watching her eyes light up.
“It is, isn’t it?” she beams. “Falling in love… It’s the best feeling ever. I can’t wait until it’s your turn, Elena. Maybe you’ll meet someone special when your classes start—”
“None of that, today is all about you. Let’s dance,” I say, cutting her off, confused by why everyone is so set on seeing me fall in love when I’ve made it clear I am not interested in any man…
My eyes drift again to my bodyguard, now a dark figure in the evening light.
I’ve been having…thoughts. Confusing thoughts and emotions since the man came into my life.
His eyes on me are supposed to make me feel safe, but instead, they leave me with a sense of unease.
My skin is always sensitive and achy when he’s close and when he touches me…
I shiver and force my attention back to my sister just as Matteo approaches. I watch Sofia’s eyes light up with wonder and how she laughs when her groom sweeps her off her feet. Everyone cheers and claps as he carries her away.
With the celebration over, the rest of the party walks along the beach, chatting and laughing as we head to the guest bungalows, the bodyguards following closely behind. I’m not surprised when my sisters and cousins follow me to my bedroom and make themselves comfortable.
“Matteo and Sofia are literally soulmates,” Gia says dreamily, jumping on my bed before falling to her back with a sigh. “Did you see the way he was staring at her during their dance?”
“So romantic,” Bella sighs, flopping down next to Gia. “I hope I find a man who loves me enough to fly my family to a private island for a surprise wedding.”
I shake my head, walking to pack my things.
“You girls should get some rest. We leave tomorrow morning, and you don’t want to look tired if the press catches you at the airport.
” We aren’t celebrities by any means, but Gia was recently appointed the prima ballerina at her ballet company and is about to go on tour in Europe, so she’s garnered some attention from paparazzi recently.
“Killjoy,” Gia whines before turning onto her stomach to face me. “Speaking of people staring at others, I noticed your eyes on a certain someone tonight, Elena.”
I freeze, halfway through folding a dress, but only for a heartbeat before I continue. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Tall, dark, and dangerous. I guess you could say he’s handsome, if you’re into rough-looking men with large muscles and dead eyes.”
“His eyes are not dead,” I argue before I can stop myself. Just…haunted. “But still, I don’t know what you’re implying, Gia.”
“You like him.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” My head whips around this time to find everyone in the room watching me. “Look, he’s my bodyguard, and it’s not strange to keep glancing at him every once in a while, but it doesn’t mean I like him.”
“We all have bodyguards, Elena,” Arianna cuts in. “None of us looks at ours the way you look at yours.”
Christ, I don’t even want to ask.