Page 1 of Doll Face

Prologue

The rope dug into her wrists, cutting off the circulation. The more she twisted, the tighter it bound. Heat engulfed the left side of her face where she’d been repeatedly punched. Blood ran from her broken nose into her mouth, the metallic taste churning her stomach until she thought she’d puke. Her heart thumped rapidly in her chest, with each beat a painful burst beneath her ribs.

“Aren’t you a sight, doll face?”

Macy jerked her head toward the caustic tone. She knew that voice. Pietro Roman strode through the door as if he were king. Perhaps he was. He certainly ruled the torture chamber in the basement of his palatial home. Who knew the beautiful colonial house hid such horror.

“Mr. Roman, there’s been some mistake,” she said desperately. Her boyfriend, Matteo, surely didn’t know she’d been taken, tortured under the roof where he lived. Whatever his father had thought she’d done, she hadn’t.

“Oh, there’s no mistake,” Pietro said, smiling viciously. “You see, my son doesn’t want you anymore, and unfortunately for you, we can’t take the chance that you’ll go blabbing that pretty mouth of yours.”

Nothing made sense. “Blabbing? About what? Where’s Matteo?”

Pietro chuckled, the sound like nails on a chalkboard. “My son hasn’t been truthful to you. He’s been lying to your pretty face this whole time. Our last name isn’t Roman.”

Everything felt wrong. Raw and unbalanced. “I don’t understand.”

“My name is Pietro Romanelli,” he said.

“Romanelli?” The name triggered a memory. Where had she heard it … and then it hit her and her eyes widened. Romanelli was one of the biggest names in Chicago, despite the rumors that linked them to the mafia. Bad fucking people who made problems disappear.

Pietro smiled, and it looked like a shark showing off his teeth. “There it is.”

With dread, she realized she was a problem.

He walked completely around the chair she was tied to. She could only track him with the eye that wasn’t swollen shut. Pain radiated through every cell in her body. Macy didn’t want to move, or even breathe, because it hurt too damn much. Tears leaked from her swollen eyes as she tried to get her bearings. She’d been grabbed from her apartment complex. Hit repeatedly in the face. She had awoken tied up like a turkey on Thanksgiving, not knowing where she was or who had attacked her.

Cold spread inside her as she absorbed his words. Matteo Romanelli. Mafia. Her boyfriend was in organized crime, and he didn’t want her anymore. He let his obviously deranged father handle her. Just like that? This was the end? Of them, of her? What had she done wrong? Why did he fall out of love with her? A different type of pain stabbed her through her chest, and she thought she heard a distinct cracking sound. Was it her heart breaking?

“I-I won’t,” she whispered, swallowing past the lump in her throat. It was getting harder to breathe. “You don’t have to worry about me. I won’t say a thing.”

“Of course not. The dead tell no tales.”

Fear. Regret. Despair. It all blended together in a macabre dance. Fresh tears rose up and spilled down her cheeks, mingling with the blood. His words signaled her death knell, and she saw absolute truth in his mean, hate-filled eyes. What had she done that warranted so much loathing?

“I don’t want to die,” she whispered, hating that she begged. “Please. I’ll disappear. I’ll leave this city—”

“I’m afraid you’re too much of a liability.” Pietro came to stand in front of her. “Matteo realized his mistake in dating a civilian, one he won’t make again. He asked me to take care of you.”

How could Matteo betray her like this? He was the one who pursued her. He had told her he loved her. That he wanted a future with her. How could he do this to her? The moment she’d met Matteo Roman she had fallen hard despite being worlds apart. But his surname wasn’t Roman, was it? He was a monster lurking in her nightmares.

Macy thought they’d get married, have babies, and live happily ever after. She had believed him. Yet now, watching his father smile evilly at her, she realized she’d made a deadly mistake.

“Please, no,” she begged again.

“I’m sorry, doll face.” He didn’t sound sorry at all. “Your death provides a reason to go to war. Two birds, one stone. But don’t worry. I promise to give you a decent burial.”

She whimpered.

He held out his hand, and the guard standing with him placed a gun in it. Pietro aimed the muzzle at her face. She didn’t want to die. Not like this. She thought of Matteo, how she had loved him so much. Even still, with a shattered heart and betrayal burning through her. She was going to die with his name lingering on her tongue.

Macy stared at her killer as Pietro Romanelli pulled the trigger.

Chapter One

“Maybe love at first sight isn’t what we think it is. Maybe it’s recognizing a soul we loved in a past life and falling in love with them again.” —Kamand Kojouri

“Get me a salted caramel latte!” Rocco called out from the car window.

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