Chapter 1 - The Man in the Fog
Mara forgot how to breathe as the tall man stepped fully out of the morning mist.
His dark wool coat billowed behind him, framing a face that was as ruthlessly handsome as it was terrifying.
Bianca Thorne stumbled backward, her designer heels sinking deep into the wet mud of the cemetery.
All the venom and arrogance had completely drained from the senator’s daughter.
"Dante," Bianca whispered, her voice trembling so violently she sounded like a frightened child.
Dante Russo did not even look at the woman who had just slapped the mother of his unborn child.
His piercing dark eyes were locked entirely on Mara, trailing down to the red mark blossoming on her pale cheek.
He stepped over the graves with the silent, deadly grace of a predator who owned every piece of earth he walked on.
"I will not repeat myself, Bianca," Dante said, his voice dropping to a lethal, quiet register.
"If you ever raise your hand to her again, I will personally ensure your father’s political career ends with a closed-casket funeral."
Bianca let out a pathetic gasp, clutching her expensive coat around her chest as she practically sprinted toward her parked Mercedes.
Mara stayed frozen on her knees, her hands still wrapped protectively around her slightly swollen stomach.
She had spent three months convincing herself that her one reckless night with a dangerous stranger was just a faded memory.
Now, the most feared mafia boss on the East Coast was standing over her mother’s grave.
Dante slowly knelt into the mud, ignoring the dirt ruining his bespoke Italian trousers.
He reached out and gently picked up the cheap silver bracelet that Bianca had knocked off Mara's wrist.
His massive, calloused hand dwarfed her delicate fingers as he carefully fastened the jewelry back around her wrist.
"You should have told me, Mara," he murmured, his gaze dropping briefly to her stomach before returning to her eyes.
"I didn't think you would care," she admitted, a single tear finally escaping and tracking through the dirt on her face.
Dante’s jaw tightened dangerously as he smoothly scooped her up into his arms, lifting her out of the mud effortlessly.
"I am taking you home," he declared, carrying her toward a fleet of black SUVs idling by the iron gates.
Mara rested her head against his broad chest, exhausted and terrified, but feeling safe for the first time in her life.
She thought the nightmare was finally over, completely unaware of the shadow watching them from the distant treeline.
As the armored car door closed behind them, Dante’s phone buzzed with an encrypted text message.
May you like
He looked at the screen, and his dark eyes filled with absolute, unhinged fury.
The message read: "She isn't just a maid, Dante, and if you take her, the war begins today."
