Page 10 of Sins of the Father
That curiosity stirred inside him again. What kind of woman was she? He walked over to the desk and took up the file. Her life seemed rigid and empty. Dawn prayers, silent meals, early curfews. The nuns shaped her world, and it appeared devoid of life. Luc let out a dry laugh. A girl like that wouldn’t last a week in his world. Yet she was about to become his wife. The final page held a surveillance photo. He barely looked at it—until he did.
Mia Bonino.
His heart jerked. She was beautiful, her dark blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders in soft waves, spilling down to her hips. It gleamed like silk in the light, each strand begging to be touched, to be wound around his fingers. By God, it wasglorious—an unspoken temptation, wild and decadent, that made hispulse thrum harder just looking at her. Innocence radiated from her. There was no fake smile, no poised pose. Just a girl caught in motion, head tilted to the sun, hair slipping loose from a braid. Her mouth curved into a small smile, as if she’d heard a private joke that the world had missed.
But it was the eyes that stopped him.
Dark blue, steady, curious, and so fucking stunning, for a moment, his thoughts scrambled. There was no vacant stare of mafia daughters trained to look pretty and say nothing. This was not the dull gaze of women who survive by blending in. She looked like she wanted answers and wasn’t afraid to demand them. Luc’s thumb smudged the edge of the photo. He dropped it like it burned.
Christ.She’d get eaten alive.
She wouldn’t know how to read a veiled threat, wouldn’t sense when danger turned real. One wrong move and she’d bleed fast, and her blood would stain his hands.
Still, an untouched canvas had potential. No allegiances. No broken pieces to unlearn. If he could harden her before the wolves smelled blood—
If.
A dangerous word that holds weight in how he considered life.
He thought of Isabella, Marchetti’s niece and his current lover. That bridge would burn. Power was power. Luc closed the file. He’d take the pawn his father had placed on a platter and make her queen, fit for their world. If she couldn’t bend, he’d remove her.
CHAPTER TWO
Luc set his play in motion with a privately delivered letter to the convent. Now it was time to share the news with his family. He stepped into the study. No one asked why he had called them for this meeting. John sat near the window, flanked by his brother Antonio and two of Luc’s closest guards. Antonio’s posture was taut, his dark brown eyes sharp and watchful. Their mother sat by the fire, her gaze fixed, unreadable as ever. The charcoal shawl draped around her shoulders did nothing to soften the steel in her bearing; her eyes, usually warm, were now cool and watchful.
Luc moved to his large oak desk, stood before it, but did not sit. “I’m marrying Mia Bonino.”
A slight gasp escaped his mother, and the room fell still.
“A Bonino?” Antonio straightened, his eyes narrowing. “That name’s been dead for years.”
“Time to resurrect it,” Luc said, flicking a gaze to his mother, who was looking at him with a thoughtful expression.
“You do realize how that sounds.” Antonio leaned forward, arms on his knees. “That family’s barely treading water. Why would you form an alliance with them?”
“Our father arranged it. I’m following through because I have seen the benefit.”
His brother nodded. “I see. That means there is a chance to take their territory?”
“Yes.”
“Will the family let you?”
“I won't give them a choice. They will yield or die.”
Ettore Bonino had once ruled a wide slice of the city—territory only a Bonino had ever managed to tame. Cops looked the other way. Rivals vanished. The Commission tolerated his independence because no one else could keep that sector quiet.
Antonio frowned. “Why hasn’t the family used her to strengthen their power?”
Luc gave a humorless chuckle. “Ettore hid her away, raised her in a convent. If the rest of her family knew where she was, she would have long since been controlled to suit their purposes.”
“You’ve met her?” his mother asked, her voice low and contemplative.
“No.”
His mother’s eyes widened. “You have no idea if she will agree to the marriage?”
“What she wants does not matter,” he said.
