Chapter 1

One month before graduation, my boyfriend Leonardo Costa suddenly asked to break up.

He gave me a lakeside estate in Chicago, a limited-edition Rolls-Royce, and twenty million dollars in cash. A thank-you, he said, for four years of companionship.

I stood in the living room with the asset transfer agreement in my hands, my mind completely blank. I almost wondered if I'd heard him wrong.

Just last night, when I'd come home from the academy, he'd pressed me against the floor-to-ceiling window in the bedroom and whispered in my ear: "Don't treat me like a gentleman tonight."

He was always so controlled, so composed — but last night, he'd come undone. He said he loved me, over and over again.

I thought it was our wild, delirious celebration before graduation.

But when I woke up, he was gone.

His number had been disconnected. Every social media account, deleted. Even his personal assistant was unreachable.

As if someone had erased him entirely from my world.

At noon, his lawyer arrived on schedule.

The middle-aged man in the sharp suit spoke with practiced deference. Leonardo had specifically instructed him to come at noon, he said — so as not to disturb my rest.

He handed me the documents.

The estate, the car, the twenty million — all of it already transferred into my name.

"This is the Young Master's compensation to you."

...

Compensation.

I stared at those pages and laughed.

I had never needed his money.

Four years ago, I'd told him — my family wasn't ordinary.

He'd just ruffled my hair and smiled that easy smile of his. "No matter how rich you are, you can't possibly be richer than the Costa family."

I hadn't bothered to explain.

Because I loved him.

And now he'd taken a knife to four years of us, and settled the debt in cash.

I made myself go still.

I pulled a few strings — family channels — and within hours, I had the full picture.

That same evening, I walked into his engagement party.

It was exactly what you'd expect from a mafia family union. Armored cars lined the road outside the chapel. Armed guards stood in rows across the estate lawn. The guests were old money and older power — including, I noted, several underground arms dealers.

And my boyfriend — my ex-boyfriend, I supposed — was standing at the altar.

He wore a black bespoke suit, jet cufflinks catching the light. He looked devastatingly handsome.

The woman across from him was Victoria Russo.

The only daughter of an emerging arms conglomerate. Short and heavyset, her makeup caked thick, her lips painted a shade too bright. Even under the chandeliers, the acne scars beneath her foundation caught the light.

My boyfriend was going to marry her?

"Kiss her! Kiss her!"

Someone in the crowd started chanting.

Victoria reached for Leonardo.

He stepped back — instinctive, almost involuntary.

Her expression curdled immediately. "You already forgot what you promised me?" Her voice came out sharp as a blade.

Leonardo's face went pale for a fraction of a second.

Then he stepped forward.

My chest tightened.

He was being coerced.

I was already pushing through the crowd before I'd made the conscious decision to do it.

"Leonardo!"

Every head in the chapel turned.

When he saw me, shock flashed across his face — and then it was gone, sealed away behind a wall of cold indifference.

Victoria's brow furrowed. "Who is she?"

I opened my mouth.

But Leonardo spoke first.

His voice was perfectly even. Not a single ripple.

"Nobody. Just a woman I kept around in college."

He looked at me. His eyes were ice.

"Have someone show her out."

In that moment, every gaze in the room felt like a blade turning toward me.

A woman he kept around.

Four years. And that was all that was left of it.

I stood there, not sure whether to laugh or cry.

But I walked up to the altar anyway. One step at a time.

"You broke up with me," I said, looking at him, "just to marry her?"

Before he could answer, Victoria lunged forward and swung her hand at my face.

I stepped to the side and let it miss.

Then Leonardo moved.

He raised his hand and struck me across the face.

It wasn't a hard blow.

And I hadn't dodged it.

Because I knew his old injury still hadn't healed. I was afraid that if he swung too hard, he'd lose his balance.

How pathetic.

He was about to marry someone else, and I was still worried about him.

I raised my hand and touched my cheek. Then I looked at him.

"Just one question," I said. "Did you ever love me?"

He let out a short, humorless laugh.

"Love?"

"Isabella, people like us — families like ours — we know from childhood that marriage is a transaction. I've never believed in love."

His voice was calm. Brutal in its calm.

"I was with you because you were beautiful. And naive. Easy to manage."

"You've got your money now. Stop making a scene."

The chapel was unbearably quiet.

And suddenly, I understood.

Everything I'd thought was real — the tenderness, the closeness — had been a fantasy I'd built alone.

I gave a slow nod.

"Alright then," I said. "Congratulations on your engagement."

I turned to leave.

And was immediately surrounded.

Victoria clapped her hands.

Armed guards closed in from every direction.

She stared at me, a cold smile pulling at her lips.

"Think you can just walk in and walk back out? Do you know where you are?"

"This is Russo family territory."