Of volume lineage

“Not yet you are.” Those eyes held me rooted to the spot, an invisible chain.

I didn’t have time to respond before he squeezed my cheek, the action causing pain to erupt from the place I had bitten.

“I thought I told you to stop doing this.”

I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

Giova

Finally, my tongue remembered its job. “Just be thankful it wasn’t your thumb.”

Something strange and feral crossed Giova

All the sudden it was too much. His gaze, his cold expression, his closeness. Every inch of my skin felt ignited, felt like it was on fire.

I turned my head to the crowd, my eyes wandering over the packs of guests. Couples began to step out on the floor. My eyes snagged on Marzia, dressed in her flower girl gown with white flowers in her hair. When she caught my gaze, she sent me a shy smile.

Before I could approach her, I was swept into a dance by my uncles. Then I passed around like a new toy everyone wanted a turn with. The weight of the skirts slowed me down but eventually I was able to break free and escape. I slumped into the closest chair, slipping off my heels and stretching out my ankles.

“You look as pretty as I did on my wedding day,” came the raspy voice of Geltrude Lombardi.

I looked over to my grandmother, not surprised to see her reclining back in a chair, glass of wine in hand and pearls clipped into her gray curls. Her sons didn’t look like her, instead taking the Lombardi features from their father, but the gleam to her dark eyes was familiar. No

I’m sure No

“Thank you. I’m sure you looked very beautiful.”

She took a sip of her wine, lips twisting like she had tasted something disgusting. “I did, Isabella.” Geltrude turned her head towards the dance floor and remarked, “I’ve seen mountains with more character than your new husband.”

The dismissive way in which she said new husband made me laugh. Like he was some simple boy who had managed to sneak his way into the matrimony. “He is your new Don, No

“I am too old to bow to kings,” she said. “My knees are not what they were.”

Another chuckle escaped me. My thoughts of anger and embarrassment evaporated, replaced by my sudden amusement. Despite the weight of the dress, I felt lighter than I had in months.

“Had your mother spoken to you about the wedding night before she fled like a rat?”

I didn’t point out that her son and grandson had also fled like rats. “She did,” I lied.

No

I ignored the implications of her statement. Knowing I would have to have sex with Giova

The ache beneath my thighs.

He was my enemy, the man who had destroyed my family. I would not allow myself to surrender to his deep eyes, to his plush lips and tongue—

“Would you like to dance, Mrs. Vigliano?” The sudden question disrupted my spiral of thoughts.

I looked up to see a man with weathered cheeks and a crooked nose from being broken too many times. Bruno Gorgazzi, I recalled. He was one of Giova

I don’t know when he had joined the Vigliano family officially, but I knew he had brought his sister, Agnese, with him.

“Mrs. Vigliano?”

For a brief second, I thought he was talking to someone else. Mrs. Vigliano wasn’t me; that name belonged to another woman.

I nodded sharply and rose to my feet. Bruno led me to the dance floor, ever the gentleman.

Something uncomfortable wriggled under my skin as the capo embraced me, one hand resting on my lower back and the other holding my hand, but I pushed it down. He didn’t move with the same grace and expertise as Giova

“You look very beautiful,” he complimented.

I forced a smile. My cheeks felt like they were going to crack. “Thank you.”

“I didn’t think he would agree, you know,” Bruno continued. “We expected compromises–and we knew there would be resistance. But a marriage?”

“Marriages are often used to secure alliances,” I said carefully. “Mob families have been doing it for centuries.”

“Mob families have. Giova

“We’re all Viglianos now.”

His grip on my hand tightened. My bones cried out in protest. “Yet the sins of the Lombardis past remain.”

I tugged my hand away, ripping myself back with a sudden burst of strength. Red tethered on the edge of my vision as my anger reared its fearsome head. “I hope that’s not a threat, capo.”

“Your father made my sister and I orphans.”

“My father has made a lot of orphans,” I hissed, my temper breaking through my thin control. “Do not risk peace–”

Bruno stepped forward and heads turned towards us at the sudden movement. “There can be no peace under a Lombardi Queen.” His arm flew high, arching and then slicing down, the glint of silver too fast to register–

The world stopped.

A hand was wrapped around Bruno’s wrist, levelling it high in the air. The knife fell to the ground with a clatter, the only sound in a sea of silence.

Giova