Publication Date: April 2018
Genres: Adult, Romantic Suspense, Organized Crime. Erotic Romance

Siena Calabrese is no longer the prized daughter of la famiglia. Her transgressions against her brothers and family have stained more than just her reputation. Her best chance at keeping breath in her lungs would be to sit down and shut up like she was taught to do. She definitely shouldn’t be feeding information to her family’s enemies. And yet, she is still willing to risk it all for a chance at forever with Johnathan Marcello. After everything, how could she not?

The disgraced one …

Johnathan Marcello’s life and secrets have now been put on display for everyone to see. There’s no hiding the things he’s tried to keep hidden, but maybe that’s the best thing that could have happened. Now he’s about to walk straight into a war between rival mafia families, and he’s got choices to make. His love is on one side, he’s on the other, and everybody is playing for keeps. He’ll play the game just as dirty as anyone else to get what he wants, even to the detriment of himself. For her, how could he not?

The shamed one …

It’s time that the forgotten king takes back his throne. It’s already been too long since it was taken from him.

But when has anything in this life been easy?

Excerpt

“It is a little concerning that she’s here,” another man put in.

“She was here for me,” John snapped over his shoulder. “She didn’t leave my room all day yesterday, or last night. She was kept company by several people while she waited for me. And if you have a fucking problem with who I involve myself with, then you can bring that issue to me.”

“John makes a valid point,” Giovanni said, stepping in between the men. “And right now, the important topic is not who is involved with who, but what we need to do next to lock this family down, and protect anyone who needs protection.”

“And what, ignore the fact he’s sleeping with one of the goddamn snakes?” Nathan asked.

Jesus.

John had done so well.

He hadn’t let his anger or frustration overwhelm him for a long damn while. His new med regime really helped with the sometimes heavy swings of emotions that he experienced. At the very least, it gave him some time to think shit over before he outright reacted to something. But sometimes, shit just could not be helped.

This was one of those times.

Rage swelled through John like a fucking tsunami coming to destroy hallowed ground. Rage was often his favorite emotion as it was the easiest to understand, and to feel. It certainly wasn’t the easiest to control, but he wasn’t concerned about that at the moment. He had other things to handle.

He swung around, despite seeing the warning flash in his uncle’s eyes, and took aim at the idiot who smirked at him.

Good.

Wiping that off would be greatly satisfying.

John reared back, and let his fist crash into the face of the Capo. He didn’t hold back for a second, and he put every bit of his weight behind the punch. He swore Nathan’s nose broke under the impact as the man’s bones flattened with a sickening crunch damn near instantly. That sound was quite satisfying, really.

Blood poured.

Someone swore.

Someone else moved closer.

“John,” he heard his uncle warn.

John didn’t need anybody to step in. He knew exactly what he was doing, he was perfectly in control, and he had this shit handled.

He had himself handled.

John pulled back, stood straight once more, and fixed his fucking jacket. Another time—another day in his life or another person he disliked a little bit more than Nathan—and he might have beat the guy to a bloody pulp because he couldn’t fucking control himself, and it would have felt divine.

Today was not that day.

John only needed the one hit to make his fucking point clear. He looked over Nathan as the man covered his broken, bleeding nose with one hand, and nodded when the Capo glanced up at him. Bleeding and holding onto his face, Nathan muttered a garbled apology when John cocked his brow at the man.

He hadn’t even needed to ask.

The Capo just knew.

So was their life.

Pointing a finger at him, John said, “And you fucking remember how this shit went down the next time you put Siena’s name in your goddamn mouth, too.”

Turning fast on his heel, John looked to his uncle. What had been concern and a warning in Gio’s eyes before was now only a slight amusement, and shit, maybe even pride. It was hard to tell with Gio sometimes. His mind was all over the place, and really, he was usually the first man in their family to step out of line when it came to rules and whatever else.

John figured he was good to go. And even if he wasn’t, that one punch had been worth it, all things considered.

“We don’t assault other made men,” Gio said quietly.

“Let him act that way toward your wife, then.”

Gio raised a brow. “Siena is not your wife, John. Therein lies the difference, and you’re quite aware of that.”

Yet.

She was not his wife yet.

John didn’t say that out loud, only shrugged. “I said what I said.”

“Can we finish our discussion, now?”

“Sure,” John murmured, “but somebody might want to get Nathan a towel. He’s ruining the rug, and that’s a damn shame.”

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About Bethany-Kris

Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to four young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time.

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