Page 3 of Dangerous Deception

My father leads me to the wooden bench near the doors that open out onto our vast garden. As we sit, he pulls one of the knitted blankets onto his lap and smooths it out, then he fixesme with a look that takes me right back to when I handed him a terrible report card as a child.

Something I will forever blame my tutors for.

“Adelina, you know how much I love you, don’t you?”

My heart begins to race as I nod. “Papà, what is it? You’re starting to scare me.”

He reaches for my hand and places it over the blanket in his lap, caressing my knuckles. “I know Carlos’ passing was hard on you. The loss of him and his family is a devastating blow.”

I nod slowly while my heart runs a marathon in my chest. Bracing for bad news is difficult when I’m still so raw from losing the man I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with. Regardless of my obligations to Carlos, I cared deeply for him.

“You know the threat of the Varricchio family and in a perfect time, I would be able to give you time to grieve and process everything that is happening, but my dear, we do not have that luxury. Not if we want to survive.”

I suddenly know where this is going. “You want me to marry someone else, don’t you?”

A flash of relief warms my father’s eyes that I was able to work it out and he doesn’t have to say anything. “Yes, my dear. I do. Alone, while we are strong, we don’t have the numbers to stand against a family as large as the Varricchios. So I need you to understand that this is the best option for all of us and the only way I can keep you safe.”

It’s a surprise but not altogether unexpected. I’ve never shied away from the weight of responsibility that falls on me as the only child of the Castiglioni family. Despite our criminal roots, I know we do what we can to keep people safe, and the loss of the alliance with Carlos’ family was a terrible blow.

“I understand,” I reply softly, gripping his hand. “It’s just business, right?”

“Exactly!” My father perks up suddenly. “If there were any other way, then I would be taking it, but we can’t do this alone. You know, it’s been hard since we lost your mother to her illness, and I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. You know that, right?”

“I know.” I don’t have the heart to tell him that another marriage is the last thing I want. That if I had the choice, I would leave all this behind and dedicate my life to the hospital that fought so hard to save my mother’s life.

But that is not my future.

“So,” I say, taking a calming breath, “who is it? One of the smaller families? Someone bigger?”

My father squeezes my hand warmly. “Raffaele Varricchio.”

The world around me screeches to a halt as my blood turns to ice in my veins. A dark, painful pit opens up in my gut and for a few long seconds as I stare at my father, I can’t breathe.

“What?” I gasp hoarsely, ripping my hands away from him. “You expect me to marry themonsterwho murdered my fiancé?”

2

RAFFAELE

Blood spreads across the tiled floor, filling in the cracks along the marble from every stray bullet and crowbar that didn’t quite meet their target. It spreads like a spiderweb between each mark of damage, soaking up every stray splatter and spray that decorates the floor until there’s nothing but a sea of red. Crimson stains the cupboards, from the low-down drawers up to the high cabinets keeping crystal glasses safe from wandering hands.

A butcher’s knife lies an inch away from broken fingers that strained to reach it right until the very last drop of life bled from them. Several guns lay abandoned between the bodies creating mountains around the new red sea in the kitchen.

I watch it spread until the blood approaches the soles of my leather shoes. Only then do I sidestep the river trying to stain me further and snatch up a bright green apple from the shattered remains of a glass bowl on the countertop. Oddly, this particular apple is free from any of the blood spatter that made it across the kitchen counters, but I buff it against my shirt all the same while walking out of the kitchen and into the large lounge.

“Please,” whimpers a voice to my left.

I halt immediately.

“P–Please, I’ll do anything. I’ll do anything. What is it you want?”

The man begging for his life was shot thrice in the chest and had been slumped against the wall unit when I entered the kitchen. It seems my reappearance interrupted his attempt at crawling to freedom, and now he weakly begs for his life as if he didn’t just do a great disservice to the family he worked for by not dying quietly where he’d been left.

I slowly buff the apple once more, then turn it over in my hands to ensure it truly is free from any kind of blood and gore. Footsteps thunder above me, followed by a yell and several gunshots. A last heavy thump makes the bleeding man to my left flinch, and he throws himself forward with a whimper of pain. I glimpse the strap of body armor under his shirt.

“Please, Raffaele, whatever it is you want, I c–can get it for you. You want money? The–the safe combination? You want the jewelry? Safety deposit boxes? Anything you want, I can get it in a flash, I swear, I swear! Just please, please don’t kill me!”

I take a slow, careful bite of the apple. Sweet juice bursts across my tongue while I devour the flesh and slowly remove my handgun from its holster.

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