LOGINMatteo Ricci had been Don of the family for a few months now powerful, feared, and unshakably loyal to his family. His marriage to an Irish bride was meant to solidify the alliance between the Riccis and the O’Connells. The Irish believed they had chosen his future wife: Isolde O’Connell, raised and groomed for the role. But Matteo never intended to marry her. He chose Ciara O’Connell instead—the quiet daughter, the overlooked one, the girl the Irish never considered worthy of a Don. His family supported the choice from the beginning, but the O’Connells were blindsided. And Isolde? She was humiliated. Now, as Ciara steps into her new life beside Matteo, the alliance trembles. Isolde’s jealousy turns deadly, and Ciara quickly realizes the truth: someone inside the villa wants her gone. When subtle attempts on her life begin, Matteo and Ciara work together to expose the traitor without igniting a war between their families. To protect Ciara, Matteo must navigate political deception, family expectations, and a hidden enemy who believes Ciara stole the life she deserved. But Matteo didn’t choose Ciara out of obligation—he chose her out of conviction. And he will destroy anyone who threatens her. In a world built on loyalty, power, and blood, Matteo Ricci will fight to keep the woman he chose… even if it means tearing the alliance apart to save her life.
View MoreMatteoFamily days like this are supposed to feel easy. Sunlight. Laughter. Kids running wild in the garden. Mama and Nonna arguing over who gets to hold Luca next. Ciara leaning into me like she was made for my arms. And it is easy. Mostly. Except for the part of me that keeps glancing toward the driveway.Salvatore should’ve been here by now. He didn’t fly in with Kat and Wolf. He didn’t send a text saying he landed. He didn’t even answer when I called this morning. The last time I saw him in person was months ago, before Luca was born, before Christmas, before Juan started stirring up trouble again.We talk on the phone, sure. But that’s not the same. And lately… he’s been different. Shorter calls. Longer silences.A tone in his voice I haven’t heard since we were teenagers and he was hiding something he didn’t know how to explain.Juan is part of it, I know that much. The bastard has been pushing into Kansas City again, trying to take advantage of the chaos Hector and Isolde left b
A year changes everything. The villa is alive in a way it hasn’t been since last year when I first arrived, doors open, sunlight pouring in, voices echoing through the halls. The smell of rosemary, lemon, and fresh bread drifts from the kitchen, mixing with the sound of laughter from the garden.I stand on the balcony with Luca Cillian Ricci tucked against my chest, his tiny fist curled in my dress. He’s three months old now, all dark curls and Matteo’s serious eyes. He’s quiet, observant, always watching the world like he’s already trying to figure out where he fits in it. Below us, the chaos of family unfolds. Matteo and Wolf are “playing” soccer with Jace and Koda, though really, they’re letting Koda win. Jace, now sixteen and all legs and attitude, pretends he’s too cool to care, but he still laughs every time Koda steals the ball from him.Koda shrieks, “I scored! I scored!”Matteo clutches his chest dramatically. “He’s unstoppable!”Wolf falls to his knees. “We’ve been defeated
I never thought getting ready for my wedding would feel like this. Not rushed. Not chaotic. Not like I was being shoved into a suit by half the family. Just… steady. Like the world had finally stopped spinning long enough for me to breathe.Wolf was fixing his tie in the mirror, muttering under his breath about how Kat was going to cry the second she saw Koda walk down the aisle. Salvatore was sitting on the edge of the bed, rolling his cuffs, pretending he wasn’t watching me out of the corner of his eye. I caught his reflection. He smiled. But it didn’t reach his eyes.Wolf clapped me on the shoulder. “You ready, Ricci?”“More than ready,” I said. And I meant it. “I’m marrying Ciara. And we’ve got a baby on the way.”Wolf grinned. “You deserve this, brother.”Salvatore’s smile tightened.That was the moment I knew something was off.I sat beside him. “Alright. What’s going on?”He blinked, surprised. “Nothing. I’m happy for you.”“Sal,” I said quietly. “Talk to me.”He looked down at
I never thought getting ready for my wedding would feel like this. Not rushed. Not chaotic. Not full of nerves. Just… full. Full of everything that’s happened. Everything I’ve survived. Everything I’m about to step into.Kat’s room is warm, sunlight spilling across the bed where my dress hangs. The air smells like hairspray and perfume and the faintest hint of Mama Red’s cooking drifting in from the kitchen. Laughter echoes down the hall, Koda’s, probably and for the first time in days, it doesn’t make my chest tighten. I’m safe. I’m loved. I’m here. And I’m getting married in the backyard of the LOV clubhouse.If someone had told me that a year ago, I would’ve laughed in their face.GreenLee is pinning my hair back, her fingers gentle, steady, practiced. She hasn’t said much, not about the shed, not about Isolde, not about anything that happened yesterday. But she doesn’t have to. Her presence is enough. Her calm is enough.Nonna Ricci sits on the edge of the bed, humming softly whil
The walk back to the clubhouse felt longer than it should have. Maybe because the cold air was finally wearing off. Maybe because the weight of everything, Ciara’s pregnancy, Hector’s end, Mama’s toll was settling into my bones.Or maybe because all I wanted was to see her. The moment I stepped ins
The hotel room didn’t feel like a hotel room anymore.It felt like a waiting room for something I wasn’t ready to face.Declan lay in the bed the staff had rolled in, the IV line running steadily into his arm. The doctor had set up a small station in the corner — machines humming softly, vials line
The door clicked shut, and for a heartbeat the cabin was silent.Then Ciara burst into laughter.Not a polite laugh. Not a nervous one.A full, uncontrollable, doubled‑over laugh that shook her whole body. She pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to stop, but every time she looked at me, she lost it
The air in my father’s office was thick, heavy with the weight of unspoken fury. Matteo’s words still echoed his declaration that I, not Isolde, would be his bride. The silence that followed had been deafening, broken only by Isolde’s sobs as she collapsed into our stepmother’s arms.“Look at her,”






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