Chapter 1

“Father, why are we here?” I ask for what feels like the millionth time.  I’m sitting in a large banquet hall, up on a raised dais with my father and brother.  Looking out over the hall, there has to be at least 300 people here.  Bigger than some of my friends’ weddings.

And on the other side of my father, sharing a table with us is Don Rafel Luciano, the head of the Italian mafia in this part of the city.

My family has a well off, though somewhat small publishing house here in New York, Rothschild's Reads.  The business was started by my great grandfather when he came to America as a young man.  It was a point of personal pride that my family did not allow the Italian mafia to get its fingers into our business ever during our history.

So why the hell are we sitting here at a banquet hall and sharing the stage with them?

“I told you, Quinn.  We’re doing what is best for the company and for the family.  This is about a merger,” Father snaps at me.  He’s been like that a lot lately and I don’t understand why.  

He has always been a great dad.  Kind.  Caring.  Loving.  But lately, he has been standoffish.  Anger.  Paranoid.  

And now he’s insisting on this merger with the Lucianos?  This is dangerous.

“Seriously, Father?  How can you think that this is a good idea?” my brother, Stefan, hisses at him.

“I am doing what is necessary for our family and that is all that you need to know,” Father says.

I’m about to object again, but Don Luciano stands, taking a microphone from his assistant.  The man is tall and imposing.  Though every time that he looks at me, there is a kind of tenderness in his eyes.  One that I would never have thought would come from a career criminal.

He speaks with a trace of an Italian accent, making his words sound more impressive.  “I want to thank you all for coming here tonight for this wonderful occasion.  To witness the joining of two great families in our community, the Lucianos and the Rothchilds.  This joining will make two great families even greater for generations to come.  Of which, I can not wait to have that future generation running around the halls of my home.”

The crowd gives an indulgent chuckle.  Though several in the crowd who are obviously with the Luciano family cheer at this.

It’s an odd statement to make.  What does he mean by future generations in his home?  Is his son getting married?

That seems like a bit of a fat chance, since Dante Luciano is one of the biggest playboys in the city.  He’s constantly in the newspaper, each time with at least one different woman.  He was notorious for making scenes and for leaving broken hearts in his wake. 

I sincerely doubt that he would get married.

But then what is the Don talking about?

“With the combining of the Lucianos and the Rothchilds, there is nothing that can stop our city from prospering.  And so, I would like to acknowledge the two people who will make all of this possible.  Where is my son?” the Don says, a good natured smile on his face.

That smile lasts for all of 30 seconds when Dante does not make an appearance in the crowd.

The Don turns back to his assistant and I can hear his angry murmurings, though I cannot make out the words that are being said.  The assistant hurriedly speaks into a headset that he’s wearing and then there is a flurry in the back as some of the security escort Dante into the room.

There is no denying that Dante is a sexy man.  God-like would be a better way to describe him.  He’s tall, with the black hair and dusky olive complexion of his people.  His muscle is lean in the way a swimmer’s body is and his presence just flows through the room, demanding your attention.

It doesn’t hurt that he’s rocking the “just been fucked” look, with tousled hair and the top two buttons of his shirt unbuttoned.

I don’t realize how apt that expression is until I see the waitress that follows him and the security detail with him.  Because she has that same look going for her and I know for certain it wasn’t there when I inspected her at the start of her shift.

What kind of man goes to fuck a waitress during one of the biggest meetings of his family’s life?

Dante Luciano, that’s who.

I turn to see the Don is furious, his face red and his hand white-knuckling the microphone like it owes him money.  I would hate to be in Dante’s shoes right now.

But Dante doesn’t seem to notice how upset his father is.

“Padre!” he calls, exuberant as he climbs up the stairs to the dais.

The Don forces a smile as his son comes to his side, though the grip that he places on his son’s shoulder looks as if it will leave a bruise.

For his part, Dante barely flinches.  Though I do see his knees start to quiver under the strain.

The Don holds the microphone up to his mouth again.  “As I was saying, we should celebrate the people who will bring our two families together.  I ask you all to raise your glass to the Rothchild family.”

My father stands and pulls my elbow up with him as he goes.  Stefan quickly stands with us, though my father pushes me slightly forward of the rest of us.

“Please join me in congratulating the newly engaged couple, Dante Luciano and Quinn Rothchild!” the Don says as he raises his glass.

I look over at my father, begging him in my mind to stop the madness that Don is saying.  But he doesn’t.  He doesn’t even blink an eye.

What the actual fuck is happening?