MASSIMO
“Why are we even having this party when we’re at war?” I ask, pacing the floor of my father’s study as the music travels up the stairs. “It’s careless.”
My father stands tall, glaring at me. “We won’t let the Russians change our plans. It’s Mia’s twenty-first birthday, which means we’ll celebrate in style.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “Since when do you want to cower and hide because the Russians got a little heavy-handed with explosives?”
I grit my teeth, knowing that I’d never admit to my father that the Russian hit on Le Stelle two months ago shook me to the core. Deep down, I believe my father is just as shaken. “All I’m saying is we should lie low. Instead, we throw a party and hand out invitations to every fucking politician, business executive, banker and associate in the city.” I narrow my eyes. “How do we know they haven’t got a spy in here, or worse?”
Father approaches me and sets a heavy hand on my shoulder. “I understand your concern, but our security is top-notch. Relax, Massimo, and enjoy the party.”
I sigh heavily as he walks out of his study, heading down to greet his guests. It’s foolish to go about business as normal after the shit Spartak pulled on Le Stelle. We had two million dollars’ worth of cargo in the basement and they all died in the rubble. As they designed the club to cave in on the basement to make any cargo inside undetectable in case of something like this happening.
After all, the police can only be paid off to a certain extent. Few know of the trafficking that the Morrone family profit in, despite the rumors. It’ll take months for Le Stelle to be rebuilt, which means we need to select a new location for our auctions.
I walk out of my father’s study and onto the balcony overlooking the huge hall where the party is taking place. Mia dances with one of her friends, Alejandro, laughing happily. She’s so innocent of all of this, but it’s only a matter of time until she’s corrupted like the rest of us once our father forces her to marry some crooked piece of shit who will ruin her.
He’s already searching for a suitable match for her. My youngest sister Camilla is only eighteen and is still at the Syndicate Academy, so she’ll have a few years of freedom yet until my father is playing matchmaker.
Caterina Russo meets my gaze and I clench my jaw, wishing I hadn’t seen her. Now, I have to engage in polite but meaningless conversation with her, while she not so discreetly tries to flirt with me. Caterina has been after me for years, but I’m not interested.
“Massimo,” she says, her voice an octave too high. “How are you?” She sets her hand on my arm, squeezing lightly.
I clear my throat and take a step back so her hand falls off my arm. “I’m well, thank you. How are you?” Caterina is one of the women my father put on a list of suitable candidates for me to marry.
I hate being the eldest, as it means I’m in line for the throne. It also means my father won’t stop banging on about my duty to the family and the increasingly important need for me to provide an heir. At thirty years old, he can’t stand the fact I’m not yet married. Since he was married to my mom by the age of eighteen and they had me a year later when they were both nineteen.
Caterina is still talking, but I’m not listening.
I set my hand on her elbow gently. “If you’d excuse me, I must speak with my brother,” I say.
Her cheeks flush as she glances at my hand on her arm and nods. “Of course, perhaps I’ll see you later.”
“Perhaps,” I say, despite hoping that I don’t run into her again for the rest of the night. I descend the steps into the ballroom, where Luca is lingering by the buffet table, stuffing his face as usual. I walk over to him and pat him on the back, making him choke on whatever he just stuck into his mouth. “How is it that I always know where to find you, little bro?” I ask, smirking at him.
His eyes narrow as he glares at me. “I don’t know, but I thought you were seducing Caterina Russo.” He winks.
“Fuck off, I’d rather seduce a fucking corpse.”
He splutters at that, eyes widening. “Well, don’t let her hear you say that. She’s had her torch burning for you for years.”
I sigh heavily, rubbing my hand across the back of my neck. “I know, and Father doesn’t help matters. She’s on the top of his fucking list.”
“List?” Luca asks.
“Yeah, the list of suitable wives for me.”
Luca’s smirk widens. “Good luck with getting out of that. You know what Father’s like when he gets an idea in his mind.”
“What are you trying to get out of now, Massimo?” Leo asks, approaching us.
I roll my eyes. “Father’s ridiculous list of women I have to choose a bride from.”
Leo pulls a face. “What the fuck is that all about? I thought it was only the girls that were forced into marriage.” He grimaces at the word. “Tell him to fuck off.”
I tilt my head. “Would you tell him to fuck off?” I ask, knowing the answer before he even gives it. None of us have the balls to stand up to our father.
“No, but you’re the great Massimo, heir to the throne,” he says theatrically, smirking at me. “If you don’t stand up to him, who will?”
“You’re an asshole,” I say, grabbing some fancy-looking canape off the buffet table. “I need a drink.”
Mia rushes into me, looking flustered. “Shit, sorry.” She smoothes the front of her dress down. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Hey, little sis. Are you enjoying your party?” I ask, noticing her cheeks are more flushed than usual.
“Yeah, it’s great. Thanks.” She glances behind her again, as if she was running from someone.
“Is everything alright, Mia?”
She nods. “Yeah, everything is fine. I need to go to the bathroom.” With that, she dodges around me and rushes away through the crowd.
I sigh, running a hand through my hair.
Ever since Imalia deserted us for Spartak, I’ve been on edge. With the war carrying on relentlessly, it’s only a matter of time until someone tries something big again. I walk toward the bar and set my hands on it, waiting to be served.
And that’s when I see her.
A girl that shouldn’t be here from the looks of it. She stands out from the crowd with her messy red hair tied into a bun and her outfit which doesn’t suit this place. She’s wearing a pair of black ripped jeans and a casual blouse with suspenders attached, as if she should be behind the bar rather than mixing with the guests. And yet, she’s the most captivating thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
The desire to go over there and drag her onto the dancefloor with me, whether or not she agrees to a dance, is strong. I’ve never felt such a draw to another person in my thirty years.
She scans the room, her eyes wide as if she can’t believe how stuck up and audacious this party is. I don’t blame her, as I often feel the same. From this distance, I can’t discern the hue of her eyes, but I can tell she’s drop dead gorgeous.
A guy leans toward her, whispering something in her ear which draws my attention to him. My brow furrows when I notice his attire. He’s wearing a black leather jacket, with the Devil’s Alpha MC logo on the front.
That’s not right.
None of those roughnecks should be in attendance, and it sets my already frayed nerves on edge as I scan the vicinity. Sure enough, there are a few of them here lurking around the edges of the room.
Top-notch security, my ass. If these bastards got in, then anyone could be in here. Alarm sends my senses on high alert, raising the hair on the back of my neck. Currently, their leader holds no definitive allegiance in this war, which makes him dangerous.
I search for him and my eyes lock onto his as he walks right toward me. His signature cocky smirk on his lips as he approaches me like he has the right to be here. He doesn’t and if he’s not careful, I’ll put a bullet between his eyes and throw him out to the dogs.
Adrenaline floods my veins as I march toward him, clenching my fists by my side as I’m prepared for a fight.
“Massimo, just the—”