Blood and Vows

Chapter Two

Alessandra

The jet touched down at Teterboro Airport just before noon.

New York is the same as I remember—gray skies, cold air, and an undercurrent of tension that never quite fades. It’s a city that breathes power and blood, where kings rule from penthouses and corpses are buried beneath the streets. And now, the man who once sat on the Romano throne is gone.

I wrap my coat tighter around me as I step onto the tarmac. Luca is waiting beside a sleek black SUV, his face drawn, dark eyes shadowed with grief and fury. He looks so much like our father now—the same strong jaw, the same ruthless edge in his gaze.

For a moment, we just stare at each other. Then, without a word, he pulls me into a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper against his shoulder.

His grip tightens before he pulls back, jaw clenched. “Come on. We don’t have much time.”

I don’t ask what he means. Instead, I follow him into the car, my pulse steady but my mind racing.

As we weave through the streets of Manhattan, memories claw their way to the surface. Late nights at my father’s club. Whispers of betrayal behind closed doors. The constant reminder that in this world, love is a liability, and trust is a death sentence.

Luca breaks the silence. “We have a problem.”

I glance at him. “Just one?”

His lips twitch in something that might have been a smirk if we weren’t drowning in grief. “More than one. But the biggest one is the Morettis.”

I exhale sharply. “Of course.”

The Morettis have been our family’s greatest rivals for decades. A delicate balance of power kept us from outright war, but my father’s death changed everything. Without him, we’re exposed. Vulnerable.

In this world, vulnerability is lethal.

“Dante Moretti reached out,” Luca says, his voice tight. “He wants to meet.”

I frown. “Why?”

“He claims he had nothing to do with Papà’s death. He says he wants to ‘keep the peace.’” Luca’s grip tightens on the steering wheel. “But we both know what that means.”

I do.

Dante Moretti isn’t the type to extend olive branches. If he wants a meeting, it’s because he sees an opportunity. A power shift. In this world, peace always comes with a price.

Luca’s voice drops lower. “I need you to come with me.”

I stiffen. “No.”

“Yes.” His tone leaves no room for argument. “You’re a Romano. And whether you like it or not, you have a role to play.”

I grit my teeth, staring out the window as the city blurs past. I left this world. I built a life far from it. But my father is dead, and my family is under threat.

Like it or not, I’m back.

And Dante Moretti is waiting.

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