She didn’t want to be my wife, but she never had a choice.

 

The moment my father took his last breath, I knew what would be expected of me.

I’d trained my entire life for the role.

To become The Boss. The head of the Beretta Family.

 

But I hadn’t known there were conditions.

Three rules to obey.

Three rules standing in the way of becoming King of the underground.

 

The first two were easy, but it was the third rule that was most problematic.

I had to find someone to marry.

A good Italian woman who wouldn’t distract me. Someone who knew their place. Someone who wouldn’t expect anything of me.

 

So when Aida turned up—quiet and respectful—I knew she was perfect for the role, whether she wanted it or not.

 

Vows were promised; lines drawn. And I became the Mafia Boss I’d always known I would be.

 

Everything was going to plan.

Until I saw her smile at another man.

Until I saw her lay her hand on his chest.

 

She’d made a mistake.

But maybe I’d underestimated her.

I thought I was getting sweet and innocent. I hadn’t bargained on feisty and opinionated.

 

We’d been forced into something neither of us wanted.

 

I may have needed to get married, but that didn’t mean I wanted a wife.

 

Or did I?