Shattered Prince

Looking at Jules was about as close as I got. Except what I felt for her wasn’t quite love.

It was more like lust, tinged with need. A heady mix of emotions made all the sweeter by how absolutely forbidden it all was.

“I want you to do me a favor,” I said softly, leaning closer to her.

“I thought being your date was favor enough,” she said, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

I smiled back. I loved the way she teased me. It only made me want her more. “Be my first dance tonight. I’ll be passed around between wives and girlfriends for most of the evening, but I want to make sure I get time with you, first.”

“You know I can’t do anything for you, right? My papa’s the one with the checkbook and the drugs.”

“I want something from you that your father could never give me.”

“Don’t be so sure.” She grinned and patted my cheek. I caught her hand and held it tight.

“Dance with me.”

“If you’re nice, I will.” Her lips parted slightly, showing her teeth and her little pink tongue, and my whole world lit on fire.

I released her. “I’m never nice, princess, but I think you like that about me. Now, I see the head of the local Teamsters’ union looking lonely over there, and I suspect I need to grease him up and give him a hand job to make him happy.”

“What a lovely image.”

“Imagine how I feel.” I kissed her cheek gently. She looked surprised, eyes pulled wide, but she didn’t try to yank herself away. My hands lingered on her hips as I smiled, still close. “Don’t forget about that dance.”

I pulled away with some effort and walked into the crowd.

Jules was right to be surprised. Using Cap and Mal’s wedding to strengthen connections in San Antonio’s power community wasn’t exactly the best way to celebrate their love, but it was important. If I was going to rise from the ashes of my father’s death, I needed to reinstate all of the old relationships he’d cultivated over the years. Running a mafia family in a major city was as much about balancing out the powers-that-be as it was about moving product and killing enemies.

That was the way of the new world. Violence had its place, but my father had understood that a handshake and a bribe could do more damage than bullet to the head. He’d controlled the city by making nice with everyone he could, from cops to bankers to union organizers to teachers and on and on, wetting everyone’s snotty beak, making everyone happy and rich. He kept the money flowing, and the world was happy—except for Mauro Balestra.

I chatted and flirted and laughed. I complimented men I thought were scum and villains and rubbed elbows with the true beasts of this world. Mafias weren’t kind and weren’t gentle, but their damage was contained. These men, they had enough influence to ruin the lives of hundreds and thousands if they made bad, selfish decisions—which they mostly did.

But I needed them. Because if I didn’t make these connections, Balestra would. That was how I’d convinced Cap to let me invite all these people in the first place. If she didn’t, her father would, and that wasn’t something she could accept.

Good old Cap. Motivated by hatred of her father over anything else.

After a few more minutes of mingling, the priest got up in front of the crowd and called it to order. Cap and Mal took their places and I stood up front in the best man’s position. I had the ring in my pocket as the old priest cleared his throat and held a Bible perched in his left hand while his right hovered above it like he was summoning magic from its pages.

“You ready for this?” I whispered to Mal.

He grunted and nodded. “Best decision of my life.”

“Damn right it is. Cap’s a gem.”

“Better than me. Too good.”

I squeezed his shoulder. “You’re good too. You just don’t know it yet. But I love you two and I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, Carmine,” Mal said, his eyes sparkling.

The priest cleared his throat and kept reading.

I stood back as the “Wedding March” played. Cap walked down the aisle alone, and everyone stared at her. She looked incredible, but while all eyes were turned in her direction, I watched Jules like she was the only person in the room.

Because to me, she was the only one that mattered.

It was a strange, panging feeling in my stomach, like I’d been empty my whole life and suddenly found what it meant to be truly full. She was so graceful and beautiful, and she lit up with an inner light that I’d never seen before. Her limp only made her that much more incredible, and though there was so much I didn’t know or understand about her, I wanted to try. She was strong, hardened by a life living among men who were killers and thieves and monsters, compressed and strengthened into a diamond, and now she shone.