Page 1 of The Contract

Prologue

DANTE

When I was ten, my mother’s father—the really fucking crazy one—took me to a psychic.

“One day, just before your thirtieth birthday,” she said, all wide-eyed and ominous?—

“You, Dante D’Angelo… you will die.”

A completely fucked-up thing to say to a kid, obviously.

And yeah, it messed me up. Worse than any of my lunatic brothers.

Even Enzo.

But you want to know the kicker?

The real mindfuck.

Drumroll, please.

That nutjob of a psychic—the one with three missing teeth and way too many fucking indoor cats…all of them staring at me like reincarnated mobsters…

She was right.

CHAPTER 1

Riley

ONE MONTH AGO

Here’s the deal.

I love my sister.

And today is her fairy tale. Her happily-ever-after.

Which is why I swear to God, I will not be the one who shits all over her wedding.

Even through the fog of jet lag, layered over zero to eat, I stand there, absorbing an exchange of the strangest vows I’ve ever heard. They land somewhere between a business merger and a cult initiation.

And as Kennedy gets swept off her feet by a valiant, dominant, kiss-her-breathless-like-none-of-us-exist Prince Charming…

I simply plaster on my biggest, fakest smile.

The one usually reserved for overly chatty Uber drivers who look suspiciously like #8 on America’s Most Wanted.

Because despite the fact I’m barely treading water in the deep end of my feelings, I will forgive her.

Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But someday, I won’t hold it over her head that she’s breaking our pact.

The pact we swore every Christmas, lying awake, waiting for our evil step-monster Jimmy to finally drink himself into oblivion…

Us. Just us.

That no matter what happens, we have each other.

Which, now that the ceremony is over, is as clear as a zit on Meghan Markle’s perfect button nose: we don’t.

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