Chapter 1

The Boss of Bosses, Salvatore Vitale, had been circling me for five years, and I never once lifted my eyes to meet his. To him I was nothing but one more name in the arranged-union draw, one more daughter he intended to collect. Whoever was chosen on the eve of his wedding became the wife of the most powerful Don in the city. And I knew, with the certainty of a woman who had already died once, that I was bound to be picked.

I had died before. In my last life I was the chosen bride, the one every daughter in every family envied.

On our wedding night he drank himself blind and missed a call from his adopted made-sister, the only woman he ever truly loved, the only one he mourned when she went cold. Giuliana Rossi.

That night, her heart gave out.

The next morning he dragged me to the safehouse where they laid her out, twisted his fist into my hair, and forced me to kneel before her body a thousand times.

"Why did you rig the draw? You knew I loved Giuliana. If I'd pulled the empty lot, I could have married her. She died crying, clutching your wedding dress, her dress. She was the one I was meant to wed."

"You were a tool. Nothing more. Something to make Giuliana jealous. You think you're fit to stand beside me?" Salvatore's voice was cold and sharp as a blade drawn slow, his eyes fixed on me without mercy.

He poured all his grief and all his rage into me, and blamed me for every second of it. He had my fingers crushed because I wore the ring meant for her. He stripped me and threw me into the river because I wore her gown. And in the end he nailed me into a coffin, his own coffin, and gave me over to marsh justice while I was still breathing.

When I opened my eyes again my body was whole, but it ached for five long years all the same. This time I swore I would change everything. I switched the order of the lots so the empty one would fall to him without fail. After that they could love each other, hate each other, bleed for each other, it would be no concern of mine.

——

"Salvatore's number is... the empty lot."

A ripple of gasps moved through the ninety-nine daughters gathered in the hall. Every one of them understood what it meant. Giuliana Rossi was the one. The rest of them had lost their shot at becoming the wife of the most powerful man in the city.

"What the hell is this?" one girl cried, tearing her slip in half.

"It's fixed. This whole draw is theater."

"Are you insane?" another hissed, pressing a hand to her mouth.

"Don't you understand? We're only here for the show. Everyone in this city knows how the Don looks at Giuliana. If we don't pull the empty lot and he picks us, we're finished."

A girl set her teeth. "But Giuliana is his sister."

"So what? No blood between them. The union could still be made. The rest of us are filler, nothing else. Honestly, the only one with a real chance of walking out of here alive is Bianca Falcone, number one."

Calm as still water, I tore the slip marked number one from my hand. My fingers trembled without my leave, the old pain still carved somewhere deep inside me. I turned my mother's cheap silver ring once around my finger, slowly, and let it settle.

Across the hall, Salvatore's pupils sparked with a heat I remembered too well. He rose and crossed the room to pull Giuliana Rossi into his arms.

"Giuliana, this time I chose you. You don't get to run anymore." Giuliana flushed and pressed her palms against his chest, but he only held her tighter.

"But... I've always thought of you as a brother."

"That's fine. You'll grow used to it. It's fate, cara."

He cupped her face in both hands, and yet his eyes, cold and sharp, cut straight across the room to me. A chill ran the length of my spine. Without meaning to, I straightened where I stood. Could it be that Salvatore Vitale had been reborn too? But even if he had, I owed him nothing.

This time I had handed him exactly what he wanted. This time I was finally free.

At the head of the table, Donna Vitale cleared her throat lightly, a flicker of something too close to panic passing behind her eyes. Her fingers moved to the pearls at her throat, stroking them in slow, even passes. "Salvatore, your aunt never dreamed that out of ninety-nine lots you would draw the empty one. It seems fate has bound you and Bianca Falcone after all."

"But this result is... unexpected. I'll need to sit down with your father over it."

Salvatore's mouth curved with satisfaction. "Of course," he said, throwing me a glance that dared me to break.

"As for the rest of these women, let them remain at the Vitale estate until after the wedding. Consider it recompense."

He expected me to shatter. He expected the tears. But I gave him neither. I smiled. And I applauded, along with everyone else in the room.