The Don's Unforgivable Ward

He said he would never forgive me.

The world went silent around me.

The line went dead before I could manage a response.

I hurried on, my head bowed, Leo a warm weight in my arms.

It was just like five years ago.

On my birthday, Vince had burst into my art studio.

The room was filled with my secrets—canvas after canvas of him.

All of them screaming a lust, a desire a ward should never, ever feel for her guardian.

I'll never forget the look in his eyes: pure rage, a total loss of control, and a flicker of raw, violent betrayal.

He shredded the canvases, and with them, my pathetic, humble love.

"What the hell are you thinking? I'm your guardian! We're not related by blood, but that doesn't change anything!"

That was the first time he had ever yelled at me.

The disgust on his face was a knife plunging straight into my heart.

The next day, he pulled me from my studies and shipped me off to Europe.

I was isolated, a prisoner in a gilded cage.

A month later, I saw the news of his marriage to Sofia Falcone.

Only then did I understand. In his grand vision of power, I was nothing more than a dangerous variable that needed to be eliminated.

"Miss Rossi, please."

A low voice yanked me from the memory.

Vince's Consigliere, Marco, was already holding the car door open for me.