Chapter 2 - The Invitation Written in Blood and SilkThe Piazza San Domenico was a masterpiece of Sicilian Baroque architecture, its white stone columns glowing like bone under the evening lights. By 8:15 p.m., Mary was starting to feel like a fool. She had dressed in a deep navy silk dress that flowed around her knees, her hair left loose and wavy from the humidity. She stood by the central fountain, the sound of splashing water mimicking the nervous pulse in her ears.
She was about to leave when a black SUV with tinted windows pulled up to the curb. The door didn't open for her. Instead, a young man in a sharp suit stepped out, nodded respectfully, and gestured to the back seat.
“Mr. Salvatore is waiting,” the man said.
Mary hesitated. This was the threshold. If she got into this car, she wasn't just a tourist anymore. She was stepping into the underworld. She thought of Liam’s eyes—the way they hadn't looked at her with pity, but with a strange, dark recognition. She stepped into the car.
The drive took them away from the tourist-filled center and up into the hills of Bagheria. The city of Palermo began to look like a carpet of diamonds below them. Finally, the SUV pulled up to a massive wrought-iron gate. Beyond it sat a villa that looked more like a fortress, draped in climbing jasmine and guarded by men who didn't try to hide the bulges of pistols beneath their jackets.
The car stopped in a courtyard paved with ancient terracotta. The door was opened for her, and she was led through a grand foyer filled with Renaissance paintings and the scent of expensive cigars.
“In the library, signorina,” the guard said, bowing slightly.
Mary pushed open the heavy oak doors. The room was lined with thousands of leather-bound books, a fire crackling in a massive marble fireplace despite the warmth of the evening. Liam was there, but he wasn't in leather today. He wore a charcoal-grey suit, the shirt open at the collar, looking every bit the sophisticated billionaire—if you ignored the aura of lethal violence that radiated from him.
He was pouring amber liquid into two crystal glasses. He didn't turn around when she entered.
“You’re late, Mary. I thought you might have finally listened to that waiter at your hotel. He’s a smart man. You should have listened to him.”
“I’m not very good at following advice,” Mary said, her voice steadier than she felt.
Liam turned, a glass in each hand. He walked toward her, his stride slow and predatory. He handed her a glass. “To stubbornness, then. It’s a trait that will either make you a queen or get you killed in this city.”
Mary took a sip. It was the finest Scotch she had ever tasted, burning a path of liquid fire down her throat. “Why am I here, Liam? And don’t tell me it’s because you were bored. You knew my name before I told you. You were watching me.”
Liam set his glass down on a mahogany table and leaned back against it, crossing his arms. The firelight played across the sharp angles of his face.
“Your father was a man named Roberto Moretti,” Liam began, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
Mary froze. “My father died in a car accident when I was five. He was a bookkeeper.”
Liam let out a short, dry laugh. “Roberto wasn't a bookkeeper, Mary. He was a genius. He was the man who managed the offshore accounts for the Sicilian Council. He was the man who knew where every cent of the ‘black money’ was hidden.”
Mary felt the world tilting. “That’s impossible. My mother... she told me...”
“Your mother lied to protect you,” Liam interrupted. He moved closer, entering her personal space, his heat radiating off him. “Twenty years ago, your father disappeared with a ledger. A ledger that contained the names of every politician, judge, and boss in Italy who was on the payroll. The Council thought he died in that crash. But my father... he knew better.”
Mary backed away, her heart thudding. “What does this have to do with me? I don't know anything about a ledger!”
“I know you don’t,” Liam said, his voice softening just a fraction. He reached out, his thumb grazing her lower lip. “But the other families are starting to talk. They’ve seen you here. They see the resemblance. They think you’ve come to Palermo to claim what your father hid.”
“I came for a wedding!”
“It doesn't matter why you came,” Liam growled, his hand moving to the back of her neck, pulling her inches from his face. “In their eyes, you are a walking treasure map. And they will tear you apart to find what they want.”
“And you?” Mary breathed, her eyes locked on his. “What do you want?”
Liam’s gaze darkened, a flash of something raw and hungry crossing his features. “I want the ledger, Mary. I want it so I can consolidate power and end the war that’s coming.”
“And if I don't have it?”
Liam leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear, sending shivers down her spine. “Then I’ll have to keep you here, in this villa, under my protection. Because the moment you step outside those gates without my mark on you, you’re a dead woman.”
Mary looked around the opulent library, which now felt like a very expensive cage. She looked back at the man who was both her savior and her captor.
“Is that a threat, Liam?”
He pulled back, his eyes searching hers. “It’s a promise. You accepted a ride from a stranger in the rain, Mary. You didn't realize that in Sicily, nothing is free. You’re in my world now.”
He turned away, dismissing her. “A maid will show you to your room. We leave for the coast tomorrow. If we stay here, the hit squads will find us by dawn.”
May you like
As Mary followed the silent maid up the grand staircase, she realized the storm from the night before was nothing compared to the one she had just walked into. She was a pawn in a game she didn't understand, held by a man she should hate, but whom she desperately wanted to touch again.
The drama had only just begun.
