Chapter One
Everyone was staring at her like they pitied her. Valentina Berlusconi—no, that wasn’t her name anymore, she was Valentina Romano now—held the stem of her champagne glass and forced a smile to her lips so people would stop pointing and whispering. It was no secret that Giovanni Romano, also known as The Butcher within their circles, had picked her out of all the women within the Rossi circle.
Her father was one of the capos in the Rossi line, and she was part of the selection process. From what her brother had told her, Giovanni hadn’t even hesitated.
Rossi had asked him what he wanted, and Giovanni had said her name, not even taking the time to look at all the candidates. There were so many single young women, not broken or damaged ones he could have picked from. Yet, he chose her. Why?
This had made her the talk of their circle for the second time in her life. The wedding itself had been a whirlwind, and if she was honest, terrifying. Having people stare at her all day wasn’t something Valentina was used to. She much preferred to be ignored.
Like now, she stood on her own as her “husband”talked with her father. She was left to stand alone, and she had no problem with that. She’d never fit in with the inner circle of the women. Women were not seen as valuable in their world. Just pawns in the endless business contracts and bringing families together to avoid bloodshed and rival wars. All her life, she’d been told to not draw attention, to not be seen, and certainly not to be heard.
Why did the Butcher want her? It made no sense. She’d never even met him, unless… She closed off the memory and tried not to think of that time. It was the worst moment of her life. What happened to her had made her another social pariah within their fold. It was why she couldn’t wear the backless wedding dress her mother had wanted her to. Her mother had even wanted her to undergo plastic surgery to have the damage covered up or changed. That was her answer to everything.
She had to keep her scars hidden.
At least her mother had long stopped nagging her about her weight. She had that.
Giovanni was a scary-looking man. She couldn’t help but steal another glance at him now.
He stood out from all of the men there. So much larger, covered in ink. She saw the start of it just teasing at his neck, and she had to wonder if he was covered all over. According to rumors, he was. Not that she ever listened to idle gossip and rumors. If she did, then she was pretty much a monster. The people who kidnapped her a few years ago had gouged out her eyes, sealed her mouth shut with string, and torn her limb from limb, but she was a breathing and talking zombie.
She couldn’t help but smile, which was so out of place. Women rarely smiled at their weddings, especially within a mafia family, like she was. Married off. So close to being an arranged marriage.
She’d been part of one of those before she was taken—an arranged marriage to the eldest son of Rossi. It had been a big deal. Her father had been so proud. Her mother had been petrified that she’d lose that kind of standing within the community, and so she’d forced her to go on a diet and an extreme weight-loss program. That was how the kidnappers had gotten to her. They’d recognized the tight schedule her mother had organized, and they saw how weak her protection was.
So, they took her, and then they hurt her so damn badly. No one had wanted her when she returned. Rossi turned his back on her, their marriage was canceled, and he married a different woman instead, a slender blonde with no damage.
In fact, Valentina saw them now, looking like the perfect couple, which made no sense, seeing as she had raven hair. Ignoring them, she turned back toward her husband and tensed up as Giovanni was already on his way toward her.
She hadn’t drunk a single drop of her champagne.
He stopped in front of her and offered a simple nod of the head. In the few occasions she’d seen him, she couldn’t honestly recall him ever even giving her a single hint of a smile. She had to wonder if he even possessed the ability to do so.
This man, her husband, was a total mystery to her.
She tilted her head back and offered him a smile.
“I think it is time for us to dance.”
Valentina had hoped to refuse this request. She hated being the center of attention and currently, at her own wedding, it was starting to become a little irksome.
“Yes, of course,” she said, the lie spilling from her lips with total ease.
Her heart raced as she put the champagne glass down on the nearest table. She’d never been a drinker. One time when she was sixteen, she had witnessed what happened to one of their women, and their tongues became too loose. The multiple backhands and slaps she’d gotten, within company, had been enough to terrify her.
Valentina recalled her mother had told her to take note and to never allow herself to lose focus at such an event.
All the women had judged the woman. None had looked to the man as the one in the wrong. That was the difference in her world. Men could treat their women however they chose, just so long as they didn’t break them too much.
She had lost count of the number of times she’d seen black eyes, bandaged limbs, casts even. All in the name of marriage.
No love. Nothing but pain. Still, the women put up with it because that was their life, and none of them could do anything about it.
She hated it.
Despised it.
Nibbling on her lip, she tried not to think about who she was with as Giovanni slowly walked her onto the dance floor. His arm wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her close. Not too close so that it was indecent, but close enough to feel his warmth. Their bodies barely touched.