Author’s note:

Cesare’s name is pronounced Chezeray

A Sabatini may be a lot of things: an asshole, rude, ruthless, even a killer. But one thing we never are is sloppy, not with our money, not our business, and especially not with our bodies.

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Until the moment I got sloppy with the most dangerous thing I could: a woman. I’m third generation in the Outfit. I’ve killed more than my share of men, have had more than a few guns held to my head. Christy wasn’t the first person who tried to kill me, she wasn’t the last, and I’m sure there will be more in the future.

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I knew how we started was messed up. I’m old enough to be her father. She was thirty to my fifty. I should have spanked her ass, taken the gun away from her, and killed her the way I planned. She wanted me dead to pay for her childhood trauma. The way I saw it, I’ve done a lot of messed up things, but I wasn’t to blame for what she went through. If she wanted me dead, there was only one thing for me to do, kill her before she could kill me. Only the moment I laid eyes on her, everything changed: the plan, me, her.

When I put the ring on her finger and she promised forever, I believed we had a future. There was no hint I would wake up the next morning and find her gone. I tried to let her go, I can’t. She promised forever, I’m holding her to it. It doesn’t matter how far she’s gone. I will find her.

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Christy belongs to me, and a Sabatini keeps what is his.