BLOOD AND MOON : (A Mafia Werewolf Romance)

The neon sign of Bella's Café flickered against the New York night, casting red and blue shadows across the wet pavement. Giuliana Hart counted the register for the third time, her tired mind struggling with numbers that should have been simple after a twelve-hour shift. Twenty-three fifty-two. The same amount as the last two counts. She sighed, tucking dark hair behind her ear as she locked the drawer. The café was finally empty, chairs upturned on tables, floor mopped and gleaming. Outside, the November rain had stopped, leaving the streets slick and reflecting the city lights. All she wanted was her tiny apartment, a hot shower, and eight hours of unconsciousness. She grabbed her jacket and purse, double-checked the back door was locked, and stepped into the alley that ran behind the café. A shortcut, five minutes shaved off her usual route to the subway. The first sign something was wrong was the smell. Copper and gunpowder, sharp and wrong in the cold air. The second sign was the voices. "Told you, we don't have it!" a man's voice said, desperate and pleading. "The shipment never arrived. We got hit by—" "Excuses." Another voice, cold and dismissive. "Mr. Russo doesn't accept excuses. He accepts results." Giuliana froze, her hand on the café's back door. She should go back inside. Call the police. Do anything except look. She peeked around the corner. Three men in expensive suits surrounded a fourth man who was on his knees, hands zip-tied behind his back. Blood ran from his nose. One of the suited men held a gun, casual and comfortable, like he'd done this a thousand times before. "Please," the kneeling man begged. "Just give me two more days. I can get the money. I swear on my—" The gunshot cracked through the alley like thunder. Giuliana's scream died in her throat as the man slumped forward, lifeless. And then all three men turned to look at her. "Merda," one of them muttered. "We got a witness." Run. Her brain screamed the command, but her legs had turned to lead. The men advanced, hands reaching for weapons, and all she could think was this is how I die. In an alley behind a café, because I wanted to save five minutes. More gunshots exploded, but not from the men approaching her. All three dropped like puppets with cut strings. Giuliana stumbled backward, her back hitting the brick wall, legs finally giving out. She slid down to the wet pavement, unable to process what she was seeing. A figure emerged from the shadows at the far end of the alley. Tall, broad-shouldered, moving with a predatory grace that made something primal in her brain whisper danger. He wore an expensive suit, Armani probably, the kind she'd only seen in magazine spreads. Dark hair, sharp jawline, and eyes that caught the dim light and reflected it back like an animal's eyes. Golden. Glowing. Not human. "You shouldn't have seen that, bella." His voice was silk over steel, Italian accent threading through perfect English. He holstered his gun and moved closer. Giuliana tried to scramble away, but there was nowhere to go. "Please. Please don't—" "Shhh." He crouched in front of her, and she finally saw his face clearly. Devastatingly handsome in a way that should have been illegal. Sharp cheekbones, full lips, and those impossible amber eyes that tracked her every movement. "I'm not going to hurt you. But we have a problem." "A problem?" Her voice came out as a squeak. "You saw me kill those men." He tilted his head, studying her. "That makes you a witness. And witnesses are complicated." "I won't tell anyone. I swear. I'll forget this ever happened. I didn't see anything—" "You're a terrible liar." Something almost like amusement flickered in his expression. "And you smell interesting." Before she could ask what that meant, his eyes flashed brighter. His body began to change. Bones cracking, reforming. Fur rippling across skin like oil spreading across water. In seconds, where the man had crouched, there now stood a massive black wolf, easily twice the size of any wolf she'd seen in documentaries. His amber eyes fixed on her with unmistakable intelligence. This time, her scream found its voice. The wolf shifted back just as quickly, the man returning as fluidly as he'd left. He stood now, straightening his suit jacket like he hadn't just turned into an animal in front of her. "As I said," he continued as if nothing had happened, "we have a problem. You've seen what I am. What my family is. That's information worth killing for." "Then kill me." The words came out before she could stop them, some strange defiance rising through her terror. "Just do it. Don't drag it out." His eyes widened slightly. "You have spirit. I like that." He pulled out his phone and typed something quickly. "Unfortunately for both of us, I can't kill you." "Why not?" She wasn't sure if she was relieved or insulted. "Because..." He leaned down, his face inches from hers, and inhaled deeply. "You're my mate." "I'm your what?" "My mate. My fated one. The person the Moon Goddess chose for me." He said it like it was a death sentence. "A human. Of all the possible options in the world, fate gave me a human mate." A black car pulled up at the mouth of the alley, sleek and expensive. The driver emerged, another large man in a suit, same predatory grace. "We need to go," the amber-eyed man said, reaching for her. "I'm not going anywhere with you!" Giuliana tried to stand, to run, but her legs still weren't cooperating. "Yes, you are. Because those men I killed? They were Russo family. Our rivals. And they were here because someone told them about a shipment coming through this territory, my territory. When they don't report back, more will come. And if they find you..." He pulled her to her feet with surprising gentleness. "You're a witness to a mob hit, and you've seen my wolf. Every criminal organization and supernatural creature in this city will want you dead." "This is insane." "Yes. But it's also true. So you have two choices, Giuliana Hart." "How do you know my name?" He gestured to her name tag, still pinned to her café uniform. "Giuliana. Pretty name. Italian?" "My grandmother. How is that relevant to—" "You have two choices," he continued. "Come with me now, under my protection, or stay here and wait for the next group of men who won't hesitate to torture you for information before they kill you." His amber eyes held hers. "Choose quickly. We have about five minutes before this area is swarming with police and rival families." Giuliana looked at the four dead bodies in the alley. At this impossible man who had just turned into a wolf. At the black car idling with its promise of either salvation or doom. Some choices aren't really choices at all. "If I go with you and I don't like it, can I leave?" Something dark flickered in his expression. "No. Once you're in my world, there's no going back. Ever." "That's not much of a choice." "No," he agreed. "It's not. But it's the only one I can give you." He held out his hand. "I'm Marco. Marco Valentino. And I promise you, whatever else happens, I will keep you alive." The distant sound of sirens made the decision for her. Giuliana took his hand. His grip was warm, strong, and when his fingers closed around hers, she felt something spark between them. Electric. Inevitable. Marco felt it too—she saw his eyes widen, his breath catch. "Merda," he muttered again. "The bond is already forming." He pulled her toward the car, and Giuliana let him, because what else could she do? In the span of five minutes, her normal life, boring but safe, had ended. She slid into the back seat of the car. Marco followed, keeping his body between her and the door. The driver took off immediately, smooth and fast through the wet streets. "Where are we going?" Giuliana asked. "Home. The family estate." Marco was texting rapidly on his phone. "I need to tell my father we have a situation." "A situation. Is that what I am?" "You're my mate. That's the most complicated situation possible." He looked at her then, really looked at her, and something in his expression softened. "I know you're terrified. I know this makes no sense. But I meant what I said. I'll keep you safe." "From everyone but you?" His smile was sharp. "From everyone including me, bella. Though I'll admit, that might be the hardest promise to keep." The car drove through the city, leaving behind the neighborhood Giuliana knew for areas she'd only seen on television. Wealth. Old money. The kind of New York most people never got to see. Finally, they pulled up to massive iron gates. Security cameras swiveled to track them. The gates opened, and they drove up a long, tree-lined drive to what could only be called a mansion. No—an estate. Three stories of stone and glass, lit from within like a palace. "Welcome," Marco said as the car stopped, "to the Valentino family home. Try not to look too terrified. My father can smell fear, and it makes him... irritable." "Your father—" "Is the Don. The head of the family. Both the mafia family and the pack." Marco helped her out of the car. "He's going to want to kill you. Try not to take it personally." "WHAT?" But Marco was already pulling her up the stone steps to massive double doors that opened before they reached them. The interior was even more impressive—marble floors, crystal chandeliers, art that probably cost more than Giuliana would make in her lifetime. And people. Dozens of them, emerging from doorways, watching with predatory eyes. Watching her. "Marco." A woman appeared, stunning in a blood-red dress, her dark hair styled perfectly. "You brought home a stray?" "Careful, Isabella. She's under my protection." Marco's voice held a warning. "A human? Really?" Isabella circled them, and Giuliana caught a whiff of expensive perfume mixed with something wilder. "This is what the Moon Goddess chose for you?" "Apparently." Marco kept his hand on Giuliana's lower back, possessive, claiming. "Where's my father?" "His study. And Marco?" Isabella's smile was all teeth. "He's not happy." They walked through hallways lined with portraits, severe-looking men and women, all with the same predatory beauty, the same golden eyes hidden in paint. The Valentino bloodline, stretching back generations. Marco stopped in front of a dark wooden door and knocked once. "Enter." The study was all leather and wood, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, and a massive desk behind which sat a man who could only be Marco's father. Older, silver-haired, but with the same sharp features and golden eyes. He looked up from whatever document he'd been reading, and his gaze locked onto Giuliana with the focus of a predator sighting prey. "Father," Marco said. "We have a situation." "I can see that." The Don stood, moving around his desk with the same liquid grace as his son. "Who is this?" "Her name is Giuliana Hart. She witnessed me eliminating Russo soldiers tonight. She also..." Marco's jaw tightened. "She's my mate." Silence. The Don stared at Giuliana for a long moment, then threw back his head and laughed. It wasn't a nice sound. "A human?" He turned to Marco. "The Moon Goddess blessed you with a human mate? This is either divine comedy or divine punishment." "Either way, she's mine. And she's under family protection." "Protection?" The Don's eyes flashed gold. "She's a liability. A witness to our work. A human who knows what we are. The only logical solution—" "No." Marco stepped in front of Giuliana. "She's my mate. That makes her pack. And pack doesn't kill pack." "She's not pack. She's prey." But the Don's eyes were calculating now. "Though I suppose, if she's truly your mate, the bond will form. And a mated wolf is a stable wolf. The elders have been pushing for you to find your mate for years." "Then consider them satisfied." "Not quite." The Don circled them slowly. "A human Luna? The pack will never accept it. She's weak, fragile, knows nothing of our ways." He stopped in front of Giuliana. "Look at her. She's terrified just standing here." Giuliana found her voice. "Wouldn't you be? I was grabbed off the street, told I can never go home, and brought to a mansion full of werewolves who apparently want to kill me. Terror seems like a pretty reasonable response." The Don's eyebrows rose. "She has a tongue. Interesting." "She has spirit," Marco said quietly. "I noticed that immediately." "Spirit won't keep her alive in our world." The Don turned back to his desk. "Very well. She can stay. But I'm giving you one month, Marco. Thirty days to prove she can adapt to pack life, learn our ways, and earn the respect of the family. If after one month she's still weak, still human in all the ways that matter..." His smile was cold. "Then I'll eliminate the problem myself." "She'll adapt." Marco's hand found Giuliana's, squeezing. "I'll help her." "You have one month. Starting now." The Don waved them away dismissively. "And Marco? Don't let sentiment cloud your judgment. The family comes first. Always." Outside the study, Giuliana finally let herself process what had just happened. "He's going to kill me in thirty days." "No. I won't let that happen." Marco led her through more hallways, up a grand staircase. "You just need to prove yourself. Show the pack you're worthy." "I'm a barista, Marco. I make coffee. I don't know how to prove myself to a pack of werewolf mobsters!" He stopped in front of a door, opened it to reveal a bedroom that was bigger than her entire apartment. Luxury beyond anything she'd ever experienced. "Then I'll teach you." He turned to face her, and in the soft lighting, his features seemed almost gentle. "I know this isn't fair. I know you didn't choose this. But you're here now, and I—" He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "I can't let them hurt you. My wolf won't allow it. The mate bond is already pulling at me, telling me to protect you, claim you, keep you safe from everyone including my own family." "I don't understand any of this." "I know." He reached out slowly, giving her time to pull away, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His touch was surprisingly gentle. "But you will. And Giuliana? Despite everything, despite how wrong this all is... I'm glad you're here." Before she could respond, he stepped back. "This is your room. Mine is next door. If you need anything, anything at all, come find me. There are clothes in the closet, Isabella's doing, probably, she's efficient like that. Try to get some sleep." "Sleep? You think I can sleep after tonight?" His smile was wry. "Probably not. But try anyway. Tomorrow, you meet the pack. And bella? They're going to make tonight seem easy in comparison." He left, closing the door softly behind him. Giuliana stood alone in the enormous bedroom, in a mansion full of werewolves, in a world she didn't understand, with thirty days to prove she deserved to live. She walked to the window and looked out over the estate grounds, at the forest beyond, and wondered if she'd just made the worst mistake of her life. Or if somehow, impossibly, this was exactly where she was meant to be.