Page 1 of Sins of the Son

CHAPTER 1

MILANA

I stared with growing alarm as Cesare Cavalieri stalked toward me, his jealous anger palpable.

Before I could escape, his firm hand wrapped around my upper arm and wrenched my body behind him. He then stepped up to his cousin, Matteo. “Walk away.”

Matteo’s questioning gaze moved to me, then back to Cesare. “I didn’t know.”

Cesare ground out, “Now you do.”

The moment Matteo left, Cesare turned his wrath on me. “Stay away from Matteo. Trust me. He’s interested in just one thing.”

I cocked my head to one side as I raised an eyebrow. “You would know.”

Cesare stepped closer, the primal threat of his superior height and strength unmistakable. He had been working the grapevines all day alongside his father and brother. The heady masculine scent of leather, soil, and sweat still clung to his body. I stared at the steady pulse at the base of his neck and wondered if his skin would taste salty if I licked it.

As if sensing my illicit thoughts, Cesare moved even closer, his thigh brushing mine as he raised his arm to wrap his hand around my waist.

My eyes widened. With a gasp, I stepped back, breaking the spell.

He curled his fingers into a fist as he lowered his arm. His dark gaze moved from my eyes to my mouth. When he spoke, his voice was a low, sensual growl. “I’m tiring of this game you’re playing, Milana. Either tell me what the fuck I did wrong so I can apologize or get over it.”

I took a long sip from my wineglass as I glared at him over the rim before raising it high in the air and smashing it violently at his feet. “It will be a cold day in hell before I ever… ever… forgive you, Cesare Cavalieri.”

* * *

I stomped up the limestone gravel path to the cottage on the Cavalieri estate.

My prison.

Technically, as far as prisons went, it was pretty posh.

The bedroom alone was bigger than my entire apartment, but that was not the point. I stamped my foot for emphasis, even though I was venting to no one but myself.

My foot landed on a stone the wrong way. My ankle collapsed to the side as the heel on my favorite pair of knockoff Dolce midnight black pumps snapped. I wrenched off my shoes and picked up the broken heel. If I ever laid eyes on Cesare Cavalieri again, I would throw these shoes at his head.

God! Why had I let him back into my life?

Oh, right, I didn’t! He'd forced his way back into my life when he kidnapped me from my apartment and got me fired.

Bastard.

Although that was not really true, was it?

He was not a bastard.

That was part of the problem.

He was one of the exalted sons and heirs of the great Cavalieri fortune, practically a living god as far as most of Italy was concerned.

Tall, handsome, and rich, the man could probably get away with murder in this town and everyone would turn a blind eye because he was a Cavalieri.

Hell, he'd dragged me out of my apartment kicking and screaming, and not one person had rushed to my aid, the moment they saw whose shoulder I was slung over. Because in the village of Cavalieri, the Cavalieri men were kings.

Damn, damn, damn him.

Limping up to the cottage door, I rummaged for my key.

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