The Don and His Mafia Princess: Book Two of The Costanzo Series - Standalone

CHAPTER 1

I release a sigh of relief, closing my eyes as I bask in the gentle warmth of the morning sun. I love the sun. My serene moment is abruptly shattered as my irritating brother shoves me aside in his haste to descend the stairs of our private jet.

"You couldn't wait, could you, asshole?" I retort, my tone dripping with exasperation.

"Wait for you to continue pretending we've arrived at our vacation destination?" he counters, rolling his eyes. Ladies and gentlemen, meet my brother, Santiago. Standing at a towering six feet with a well-built physique that drives countless girls wild, he's the epitome of an annoyance. We both inherited our dad's dark brown hair and ocean-blue eyes, though thankfully not his impatient attitude.

"That's not what I was doing. I was just trying to enjoy Sicily's morning sun before we head to the meeting. I don't see anything wrong with that," I explain, shrugging my shoulders before descending the stairs.

"I don't care, just get in the car. The Costanzos are already waiting," Santiago retorts impatiently.

"Really?" I glance at my watch and see it's only 9:30. "I thought the meeting starts at 11:00 a.m.," I remark, sliding into the backseat of the Mercedes parked on the airport runway.

"Yes, but it's been moved to tomorrow," Santiago explains, joining me after loosening his thousand-dollar Armin suit. My white blouse and nude pencil skirt were designer, but they couldn't compare in price to his.

"I don't understand," I say, furrowing my brow as the car purrs to life.

"Uncle Enzo has asked us to rest today and have the meeting tomorrow," Santiago explains.

"Then why are they waiting for us?" I question, puzzled. If the meeting wasn't happening today anymore, we should be heading to our hotel.

"We are going to the Costanzo estate to drop you off," Santiago reveals.

"To drop me off?" I repeat, taken aback.

"Yes, Dad has asked for you to stay there while we are on this business trip," he confirms.

"Are you serious?" I ask, shocked by the sudden change in plans. Santiago nods, his gaze fixed on me.

"Don't give me that fucking look," I huff, tearing my eyes away from his penetrating gaze. The thoughts swirling in his head are all too familiar, and it's infuriating me to no end.

"You know it's for your own good," he insists, his hand reaching out for my arm, but I swiftly pull it out of his reach, my frustration boiling over.

"Please just shut up. I am not ready to hear that bullshit right now," I snap, my voice sharp as I turn away from him, my gaze fixed firmly on the streets of Sicily unfolding outside the window. The narrow cobblestone streets wind through the ancient city, lined with colorful buildings adorned with balconies overflowing with vibrant flowers. But despite the picturesque scene, my mind is consumed by turmoil, and I find myself unwilling to meet his eyes, my emotions too raw to engage in conversation.

It's been years since that fateful day, yet they still treat me as if it happened yesterday. I shouldn't be surprised, really. When Dad warned me not to fuck up things for Santiago while he was in Sicily, I should have realized he wasn't merely cautioning me to let bygones be bygones. If only they understood that all I wanted was to erase the memories of the past. I had been ecstatic when Dad finally relented and allowed me to come here, thinking it was a sign of moving forward. But now, it seems I was mistaken. He may have granted me permission to come, but the scars of the past still linger, haunting every step I take.

"Let me guess, he only let me go because my therapist spoke to him about exposure therapy and how it might be good for me," I voice out the bitter realization into the silent confines of the car, the weight of the truth settling heavily upon me. I pivot to face Santiago, seeking confirmation in his solemn nod.