Page 1 of Bastard Prince
Prologue
Eleven Years Earlier
“Darling, are you here?”
There were very few things that could distract him from his work, but his wife’s voice was always one of them.
Sitting at the large wooden desk in his office, Giovanni De Marco looked up from the ledgers he was working on and smiled as Elena entered the room. Small and petite, she always reminded Gio of a pixie, her big eyes and button nose giving her an otherworldly appearance, and her long dark hair only accentuating her diminutive stature as it hung in a thick curtain to her waist.
He had always enjoyed the difference in their sizes; Gio loved nothing more than wrapping himself around her, feeling like he was consuming her completely, protecting her from the harsh reality of the outside world.
And she needed his protection. They all did. The people he loved most in the world; his wife and their twins, Antonio and Francesca.
Staring now into Elena’s smiling face, his heart practically burst with the emotions that she evoked in him, and he cursed himself a selfish man. Because a good man, a truly caring man, would never have married her. No, a man who loved her as much as Gio did should have let her go, knowing it was what was best for her.
Because he knew that no matter how hard he tired, he couldn’t shield his family from all the horrors of his life.
Years of living his Catholic faith had taught him that of all the deadly sins, greed was the worst. And he was truly a greedy man, wanting all of her for himself, no matter the risk.
“I wanted to see you before I left,” she said, leaning over to press a kiss to his lips. She tried to move back, but his sins ran deep, so he reached for her, drawing her down onto his lap and deepening the kiss, wanting to taste her again and again.
Finally, he released her lips, loving the flush on her cheeks and her rapid breaths. “Well, if that’s what I get for interrupting you, I should do it more often,” she murmured, her delicate laugh easing his worries and lightening his heart.
“Where are you going,topolina?”
“Well, since you are going to drive Antonio to his tutor, I thought I would take Francesca out for dinner. She’s been a bit grumpy lately, and I thought some pizza might cheer her up.”
He laughed, because as much as he wanted to deny it, his daughter was certainly turning out to be quite the spitfire.
“Unless...perhaps an evening with her favorite Underboss would do the trick.” Elena waggled her eyebrows, her attempt at subtlety failing miserably.
Giovanni considered. It had been a while since he spent any quality time with his daughter. The pressures of his job mixed with the inherent system of the ‘boys club’ made it difficult for a young woman as strong-willed as Francesca to fit in quietly where the Family told her she should.
However, it was the same with Antonio. He was a tender soul, caring and kind. Giovanni worried for him even more than Francesca because his future, his destiny as a Mafia Legacy, was no place for softness, and he was concerned the Life would very quickly destroy his beautiful boy.
Balancing the needs of his family against the demands of the Organization was difficult, and more often than not Giovanni was afraid he was failing. But looking into the loving eyes of his wife, he knew that no matter how hard it was to juggle it all, he would keep trying every day.
For her. Always for her.
“You know what, Elena? I think that’s a wonderful idea.”
“Excellent.” She hopped off his lap and placed her hands on her hips. “You know, it’s always best to listen to your wife.” The hint of mischief in her smile made him laugh as she bent down to place another kiss on his cheek. “It’s settled, then; I will drive Tony to his tutor, you wait here for Francesca. She’s doing another after school club, but she should be home shortly. You take her out for a special dinner, then tonight, I’ll give you some special dessert.” She gave him a saucy wink and then headed for the door, calling up the stairs for Antonio.
“Oh. You’re parked behind me, Gio, so I’ll just take your car, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course,topolina. Anything for you.” She smiled again, wiggled her fingers in a wave, and was out the door. A moment later, the pounding of feet on the stairs announced the arrival of his son, Antonio. Gio watched as he raced past the open door of the office, then heard him skid to a halt and turn back.
“Hi, Papà.Bye, Papà. Love you.”
“I love you, too, my son.”
Then he was gone, and the house was quiet.
At dinner, Francesca was vibrant and full of life, and he listened as she recounted how she stepped in at school when a boy was being bullied.
“They can’t just do that, Papà,” she insisted, so beautiful in her righteous fury. “Just because he’s bigger than Cole doesn’t mean he can hurt him like that. It’s not right.”
“You’re right, Francesca,” he said, smiling indulgently. “It’s not. When someone is powerful, it’s their job to look out for the powerless. Being in charge doesn’t mean you’re untouchable. It means you’re responsible for those in your care. Being successful is not an achievement if you get there by breaking those you step on.”
