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PROLOGUE Liliana I knew it was wrong. If anyone had found out, if my father had found out, he would never have let me leave Chicago again.
He would never even let me leave the house again. It was definitely inappropriate and unladylike. After all that time , people were still badmouthing Gianna. They would seize the ‘opportunity to find a new victim, and what better than another Scuderi sister caught in the act?
And deep down I knew I was exactly like Gianna when it came to resisting temptation. I simply couldn’t.
Romero’s door was unlocked. I tiptoed into his bedroom, holding my breath. He was not there, but I could hear water running in the adjacent bathroom. I stealthily approached in that direction. The door was ajar. I peeked through the crack.
In the last few days I had discovered that Romero was a creature of habit, so I found him in the shower as expected. But from my vantage point I couldn’t see much. I opened the door and slipped inside.
My breathing stopped at the sight of him.
His back was to me and it was a glorious sight. The muscles in her shoulders and back contracted as she washed her brown hair.
Naturally, my eyes lowered to his perfectly shaped bottom. I had never seen a man like that, but I could not imagine anyone comparing him to Romero.
He began to turn around. I should have walked away then. But I stared in wonder at his body. Was he aroused? He stiffened when he saw me. His eyes caught my gaze before they slid over my nightgown and over my bare legs. And then I found an answer to my question. He had never been truly aroused before. Oh hell.
My cheeks grew hot as I watched him get harder. It was all I could do not to overcome the distance between us and touch him.
Romero opened the shower with calm movements and wrapped a towel around his waist. Then he stepped out . The scent of his spicy shower gel rose to my nostrils. Slowly he advanced toward me. “You know,” he said in a strange voice. “If someone found us in this state, they might get the wrong idea. An idea that could cost me my life and you your reputation.”
I still couldn’t move. I was stone, but my insides seemed to burn, liquefying into searing lava. I couldn’t look away. I didn’t want to.
My eyes lingered on the edge of the towel, on the thin line of dark hair disappearing beneath it, on the delicious V of her hips. Without my will, my hand moved, reaching for Romero’s chest, needing to feel his skin under my fingertips.
Romero grabbed my wrist before I could touch him, his grip almost painful. My gaze shot up, half embarrassed and half surprised. What I saw on Romero’s face made me shiver.
He leaned forward, moving closer and closer.
I closed my eyes, but the kiss I longed for never came. Instead I heard the creaking of the door. I looked up at Romero. He had only flung the bathroom door wide open. That was why he had approached, not to kiss me. Embarrassment overwhelmed me. How could I have thought he was interested in me?
“You need to leave,” he murmured as he straightened up.
His fingers were still clasped around my wrist.
“Then let me go.”
He did so instantly and took a step back. I stayed where I was . I wanted to touch him, wanted him to touch me back.
He imprecated and then he was all over me, one hand cradling the back of my neck, the other on my hip. I could almost taste his lips, they were so close. His touch made me feel more alive than anything else.
“Go away,” he croaked, “Go away before I break my oath.” It was half plea, half order.
CHAPTER ONE Liliana I still felt myself cringe when I thought about my first awkward attempt to flirt with Romero. My mother and sister Aria had always warned me not to provoke men, and I had never been as bold with anyone as I had been with Romero that day. He seemed safe, as if there was no way he could hurt me, despite the provocation. I was young and stupid, only fourteen years old and already convinced I knew everything there was to know about men , love and everything else.
It had only been a few days since Aria’s marriage to Luca and he had sent Romero to protect my sister. It was a big deal to choose a bodyguard for your future wife; only someone who deserved your absolute trust could be allowed so close, but that knowledge was not even the reason I trusted Romero.
Romero looked awfully handsome in his white shirt, black pants, and vest that hid his gun holster. And for some reason, his brown eyes seemed kinder than the ones I was used to in the men of our world. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I wasn’t sure what I was thinking or what I expected to get, but the moment Romero had sat down, I had settled on his lap. He had stiffened beneath me, but something in his eyes had made me fall in love with him that day. Often in the past, when I had flirted with my father’s soldiers, I had seen in their eyes that they would not hesitate to do what they wanted with me if it were not for my father. But with Romero I knew that I would never have to worry about him taking more than I was willing to give. At least, that was how I had felt that day. He seemed like a good guy, like the guys I only admired from afar because you couldn’t find them in the mob. Like a knight in shining armor, someone dreams of being made of dumb girls, girls like me.
Only a few months later, I found out that Romero was not who I thought he was, who I wanted him to be, and who I had made believe he was. That day still haunts me after all this time. It may have been the moment when my crush on Romero disappeared forever.
My parents had taken Gianna, Fabiano and me to New York to attend Salvatore Vitiello’s funeral, even though I did not know Luca and Matteo’s father. I was so excited to see Aria again. But that trip turned into a nightmare, my first real taste of what it meant to be part of our world.
After the Russians attacked the Vitiello mansion, I was alone with my brother Fabi in a room where Romero had taken us after the Family under Luca’s leadership had come to our rescue. Someone had given my brother a tranquilizer because he had gone completely crazy after seeing our bodyguard being shot in the head. I was strangely calm, almost in a trance as I curled up next to him on the bed, staring into the void and listening to the noises. Every time someone walked past our room, I would stiffen, bracing myself for another attack.
But then Gianna texted me, asking where I was. I had never moved so fast in my life. It took me less than two seconds to jump out of bed, cross the room, and throw open the door.
Gianna was standing in the hallway, her red hair scattered everywhere.
The moment I jumped into her arms, I felt better and safer.
Since Aria had moved out, Gianna had taken on the role of substitute mother while our mother was busy taking care of her social responsibilities and catering to Dad’s every whim .
When Gianna decided to look around downstairs, panic overcame me. I did not want to be alone at that moment, and Fabi would not wake up for a couple of hours, so despite my fear of what we would find on the second floor, I followed my sister. Most of the living room furniture was ruined from the fight with the Russians, and blood covered almost every surface. I had never felt very uncomfortable about blood, or anything else. Fabi had always come to me to show me his wounds, especially when there was pus because he had not cleaned them well. And even now, as we walked past all the red on the white carpets and couches, it wasn’t the blood itself that made my stomach turn. It was the memory of the events. I couldn’t even smell the blood anymore because the floors had been cleaned with some kind of disinfectant. I was glad when Gianna headed for another part of the house, but then I heard the first scream from the basement. I would have spun on my heels and pretended there was nothing there. But not Gianna.
She opened the steel door, which led to a room below the surface. The staircase was dark, but somewhere in the depths of the basement a light poured in. I shuddered. ” You don’t want to go down there, do you?” I whispered. I should have known the answer. This was Gianna.
“Yes, but you will stay on the stairs,” Gianna said before beginning the descent. I hesitated only a second before following her. No one had ever said I was good at following orders.
Gianna gave me a glare of lightning. “Stay there. Promise me.”
I wanted to argue. I was no longer a child. But then someone shouted below us and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. “Okay. I promise,” I said quickly. Gianna turned and walked down the remaining steps. She froze when she reached the last step before finally entering the basement. I could only see part of her back, but I could tell from the way her muscles stiffened that she was upset.
There was a muffled cry and Gianna gasped. Despite the fear pounding in my temples, I stealthily descended the stairs. I needed to know what my sister had seen. She was not one to be easily frightened.
Even when I did, I knew I would regret it, but I could not resist.
I was tired of being excluded from everything, of always being too young, of being reminded every day that I needed protection from myself and everything around me.
The moment my feet touched the basement floor, my eyes settled on the center of the room. At first, I could not even comprehend what was happening. It was as if my brain was giving me a chance to walk away and not realize it, but instead of running away, I stayed staring. My mind went into overdrive, absorbing every detail, every gruesome detail in front of me. Details I still remembered vividly years later.
There were two of the Russians who had attacked us, tied to chairs, and then there was blood. Matthew and another man were beating and cutting them, hurting them.
My vision narrowed and terror rose to my throat. And then my gaze landed on Romero, his kind brown eyes, which were not as kind as I remembered them. Even his hands were covered in blood. The good boy and knight in shining armor I had fantasized about, that boy he was not. A scream tore from my body, but I could only make it out by the pressure in my chest and throat. I heard nothing beyond the ringing in my ears. Everyone stared at me as if I were the crazy one. I wasn’t sure what happened next. I remembered fragments. Hands grabbing me, arms holding me tight. Reassuring words that did nothing. I remembered a warm chest against my back and the smell of blood. There was a brief searing pain when Matthew injected me with something before my world shifted into an eerie calm.
The terror was still there, but it was covered. My vision was blurred but I could make out Romero kneeling beside me.
He took me in his arms and straightened up with me in his arms. Forced calmness won out and I relaxed against his chest. Right before my eyes a red stain disfigured his white shirt.
Blood of the men who had been tortured. Slowly, terror tried to tear at the drug, but it was useless and I gave up the fight. My eyes closed as I resigned myself to my fate.
*** Romero As Made Men, it was our job to protect those we had sworn to protect: the weak, the children, the women. I, in particular, had dedicated my life to this goal. Many tasks in my job involved hurting others, being brutal and cold, but protecting people always made me feel like there was more to me than evil. Not that it mattered; If Luca had asked me, I would have done every evil thing imaginable. It was easy to forget that despite our ethics, morals and codes, we Made Men were what most people perceived as evil. I remembered our true nature, my true nature when I heard Liliana’s scream. The screams of the Russians had not moved me. I had heard them, and worse, before. But that high-pitched, endless scream of a girl we were supposed to protect was like a fucking stab in the stomach.
Her expression and eyes were the worst; they showed me exactly who I was. Maybe a good man would have sworn he was better, but I was good at my job. Most days I liked it. Not even Liliana’s terrified face made me want to be anything other than a Made Man.
I did not realize then that this glimmer of brutality was not even the worst way I could ruin her life.