Bound by my blood

Chapter one

My brother's voice thunders through the walls, a sharp contrast to the usual calculated control he exudes. Even through the thick oak door, I can hear the rage dripping from his words as he barks orders at someone inside his office.

Nico had been running the mafia for four years now, ever since Babbo retired, and he wore the weight of leadership like a second skin. He was born for this—the power, the responsibility, the unwavering authority. Unlike me. I preferred to stand behind him, in the background where no one expected me to lead.

Mamma always said it was a blessing that I never desired to be the don. If I had, she joked, it would have ended in a brutal war between me and Nico for the title but we both knew how that would have turned out. I was decent in combat, but my brother and cousins? They were leagues ahead of me.

Something about the tension in the air makes my stomach twist. My hand lifts to knock on the heavy door, but I hesitate when I hear my name. Then, something even more jarring—Mamma's voice, thick with emotion. Crying.

I freeze. Mamma never cries.

Pressing my back against the cool wood, I hold my breath and listen. The voices inside are muffled but filled with raw intensity.

"I don't fucking care what the Lombardos say. They need to get their heads out of their asses. No way is Alexa marrying that fucker!" Nico's voice is pure fury, followed by the unmistakable sound of his hands slamming against his desk.

"I agree with Nico," Babbo's deep voice rumbles, laced with frustration, "but we can't afford a war with the Sicilians right now. That marriage is the only way they'll agree to the alliance"

A sharp inhale. A muffled sob.

"She has so much more to give than being some man's wife," Mamma's voice cracks, and my chest tightens. "That man has a reputation. A cruel one. I won't let him hurt our daughter. It will be her choice, and her choice only."

The walls feel like they're closing in around me. My pulse roars in my ears, drowning out everything else.

Marriage.

To Vincenzo Lombardi.

My stomach churns violently. This isn't happening. This can't be happening.

I stumble backwards, my breathing shallow, my thoughts spiralling. I don't remember making it down the staircase, but suddenly, I'm in the kitchen, gripping the counter like it's the only thing keeping me from falling apart.

This marriage isn't just an inconvenience. It's a death sentence.

My life is here. My family, my friends, my future at medical school.

Jaxon.

Oh God, Jax.

My best friend and secret lover.

Panic claws at my throat as I grab my phone and dial his number with trembling fingers. He picks up after the third ring, his voice hoarse with sleep.

"Lexi?"

I can't speak. My throat tightens painfully as tears prick at my eyes.

"Jax, I need to see you. Now." My voice is barely above a whisper, but the desperation is unmistakable.

"Where?" He's awake now, his tone alert, and concerned.

"Brooklyn. Our café."

"I'll be there in ten."

I can't wait. I grab my keys, scrawling a quick note about heading to school early before rushing out the door.

The drive is a blur, the city lights streaking past as my thoughts race. My foot presses hard against the accelerator, urgency pulsing through my veins.

When I pull into the parking lot, Jaxon is already there, leaning against his black Lamborghini. His arms are crossed over his broad chest, his dark eyes scanning my car.

The moment I throw the car into park, I don't hesitate. I tear out of the car and sprint toward him, my heart hammering in my chest. He catches me effortlessly, his strong arms wrapping around my waist as I jump into him, clinging like he's the only thing keeping me grounded.

His scent—sandalwood and spice—fills my senses as he buries his face into my neck, pressing a soft kiss to my skin. My fingers tangle in his messy, dark hair as I close my eyes, wishing—just for a second—that this moment could last forever.

"Talk to me, Lexi," he murmurs, his voice laced with concern.

A tear slips down my cheek.

"I don't want to marry him, Jax." My voice cracks, and he stiffens beneath me.

"Who?" His tone shifts instantly, becoming sharp, and dangerous.

"Don Vincenzo Lombardi."

His entire body tenses. I pull back slightly to meet his gaze, watching as realization dawns in his dark eyes. He doesn't speak, doesn't question. He just holds me tighter, as if letting go would mean losing me forever.

I don't know who moves first, but suddenly, our lips collide. It's slow, aching, filled with every word we can't say aloud.

Goodbye.

I love you.

Please don't forget me.

Tears mix with the kiss, the salty taste lingering between us as we memorize the feel of each other for the last time.

When we finally pull away, we're both breathless. My forehead rests against his, my hands cupping his face as he leans into my touch.

"Come with me," he whispers, desperation thick in his voice. "We'll leave. We'll run away. I'll give up my position, Lexi. We can go to the UK, and live by the sea, just like you always wanted."

My heart clenches painfully.

"Jax..."

"I mean it. Say the word, and we'll go." His hands tighten on my waist, his eyes pleading.

I brush away his tears with my thumb, forcing a shaky smile. "You know I can't do that."

His face crumbles.

"I love you, Lexi." His voice is raw, broken.

"I love you too," I whisper, my heart-shattering in my chest, leaving me gasping for air that won't come.

His hands drop to his sides, and he takes a step back. The loss of warmth is instant, unbearable.

He paces, running a hand through his hair as he struggles for a solution. "There has to be a way. A loophole, something—"

"There isn't" My voice is firm, even as my hands shake.

The silence stretches between us. Jaxon swallows hard, his expression unreadable, before finally meeting my gaze.

"Please, Lexi. Don't do this."

My lips tremble, but I force myself to smile. "Maybe it's for the best."

He flinches like I struck him.

I reach up, wiping away the smudged lipstick from his mouth, memorizing every detail of his face. Then, before I lose my courage, I turn and walk toward the café.

I don't look back.

Because if I do, I'll never be able to leave.