I get up and stumble away from the house. I keep hearing my mother’s last screams as I run as fast and as far as I can, dripping blood down my neck and chest, staggering as I go.
Chapter 1
Karah
When Papa finds out what I did, he’s going to kick me out of the family.
Well, probably not. I am his only daughter, after all, and he’s a big softie at heart. Casso says Papa’s too easy on me, and maybe he’s right, but mostly I think Casso’s jealous since Papa nitpicks every one of his mistakes. Sometimes it’s good to be the oldest boy, but sometimes it’s a lot harder.
Papa won’t toss me out on my own, but he’s definitely going to yell, and Papa’s terrifying when he yells.
I hold my head up high as I march down the long hall that snakes along the spine of the Bruno family home. We call it Villa Bruno, even though there’s nothing provincial about our massive block-sized home in the heart of the Arizona desert a half hour outside of Phoenix. It’s a beastly construction of glass, wood, and slate, designed by some famous architect that loves the Southwest, so there’s plenty of turquoise and cacti and big natural red rocks jutting out all over the property. It’s beautiful, but it’s deathly hot. The house is like a maze even to me and I grew up in it.
As I approach Papa’s study and prepare to get shouted down, a shadow steps out from the nearby rec room and pauses on my right. I slow and steel myself as Nico shows his perfectly white teeth and crosses his arms over his massive chest. Tattoos snake up his arms and disappear into his crisp white shirt. He’s always wearing suits, even in the oppressive desert heat. It’s like he doesn’t feel the temperature bearing down on him. Like his heart’s made of ice. I can’t remember ever seeing him sweat.
“Where are you going in such a hurry?” he asks, his eyes sparkling.
I raise my chin and steel myself. I know that tone: Nico’s in the mood to make me feel like shit once again. Sometimes I wonder why he’s always hanging around—he’s not part of my family, at least not my blood family.
“Papa’s study. As much as I love our conversations, I can’t keep him waiting.”
Nico laughs softly and leans against the walls, studying me. He always does that—stares like I’m a piece of fine art hanging on a gallery wall waiting to be picked apart and analyzed. It’s disconcerting, and I can never seem to get away from his oppressive staring.
“I was just thinking about you, princess,” he says, head tilted, pretty lips pressed tightly together. “Your brother was talking about this little match of yours, and I’m curious how you’re going to weasel your way out of it.”
My jaw twitches but I don’t let the discomfort show. “What match?” I ask carefully.
His eyebrows raise. “You don’t know?”
“Don’t play games with me right now, Nico.”
“This is no game, princess. This is the word of the Don himself. Your father went and found you a husband.”
I step forward and jab my finger into his chest. I feel nothing but hard muscle, but I’m too angry to stop myself from literally poking the bear and too dizzy with shock to think about how nice it feels to touch him.
“That’s not true.”
He snatches my finger as I try to poke him again. He squeezes hard and I release a surprised yelp. It doesn’t hurt—but it’s right on that edge of pain, and all he needs to do is push a little more to make me groan in agony.
“Don’t touch me, princess.” His eyes blaze into mine and I know I crossed a line. Nico and I might bicker and fight, but we never touch, like there’s an invisible barrier holding us back. “If you want to call me a liar, go ahead and do it. But don’t poke at me like I’m some kind of fucking house servant.”
I glare right back. This was a massive mistake—Nico’s not the kind of man I should be messing with, but I lost my temper and couldn’t control myself. Now I get to pay the price like always. I really should get into anger management or something.
“Let me go, dickhead.”
“No. I like watching you squirm. Little spoiled brat like you deserves some punishing every once in a while.”
“Nico.” I glare at him, jaw working. “You want me to scream?”
He leans closer. “I’d love it if you’d scream for me, princess.”
“Asshole.” I rip my finger away. It hurts like hell but at least I’m free. I rub my knuckle as he watches me with an amused smile and I start to shift past him toward my father’s study.
“Fair warning. He’s in a sour mood, so whatever you thought was about to happen is probably going to be worse.”