Ruthless Saint

I

MIKA COSTELLO

        Business in the Cosa Nostra wasn't complicated. It was brutal but simple. I knew the rules because after all, I was born in Blood. The rules were strictly followed, and I had never ever heard of an exception except Elena Vetrov.

        She recently married a Russian—one who was only here on official business, yet everyone looked the other way.

        And now I was starting to wonder if I would also be an exception.

In a few days, I was to be wed to Alessio Cassano. I knew the risks the moment I gave myself to me—impulsive, reckless, driven by lust rather than logic—but I was ready to accept those consequences.

Now, Alessio had broken off the engagement a week ago with nothing short of a text that read 'I'm sorry.'

My mamma and papá barely batted an eye when I told them, too preoccupied with my cousin Greta's disappearance.

I was sitting on the couch, lazily sucking on a red lollipop as the news channel played causally, serving as a background.

I could hear hushed voices just a few feet away into the foyer, presumably discussing my cousin's disappearance.

Like me, Greta was to be wed in a few months. She'd been set to marry a Russian—a marriage meant to strength our alliance. But she ran away. Something I didn't know till this morning. And any freedom I briefly tasted since Alessio's betrayal evaporated as fast as the rumors spread.

I wonder what they're talking about.

I'd never been one to eavesdrop on my papá's conversation and I'd certainly never done it before, but I couldn't help myself.

Before logic slapped my ass back to the couch, curiosity already took me for a ride, my feet moving faster than I could comprehend until I came to a stop behind the wall.

Luca Cassano—the Boss and of the Capo's stood alongside with Don Agosta and several of papá's soliders. The Don rarely showed his face in public which unsettled me even further.

Oh Greta, what have you done?

A deep voice. "I take she is still available for marriage, Costello."

My papá nodded, an anxious look on his face. "The Cassano boy has broken off the engagement but if Malikov finds her suitable then it will be done "

Malikov. The name was familiar. I'd been briefly introduced to the man during Elena's wedding.

He didn't say much. The only thing I remembered about him was the plethora of piercings that covered his ear. I barely remembered his face, only the cold, watchful eyes that saw too much.

"Good." Don Agosta's cut through the tension like a knife. He said something but I only managed to catch the last bits of his sentence. "Then it is settled."

What?

What was settled?

I could hear footsteps quickening and I fled from the wall, running as fast as I could towards the couch. My heart was still pounding, cheeks flushed when I took my seat on the couch.

A few seconds later, my papá entered the living room with a brooding, hard look.

He came to a stop as soon as he saw me. His hard expression softened slightly, though a storm brewed behind his eyes. Inky black hair and deep brown eyes.