KANE’s POV   "He who has a why to live for can bear almost any how." — Friedrich Nietzsche   “Doctor, how is she?” I ask the moment the elderly man in a white coat steps out from behind the dark mahogany door. He looks at me and pushes the round rimless glass up to the bridge of his crooked nose, silently shaking his wintry white head. I feel my gut clench. Why is he shaking his head? Behind the doctor, I see his nurse tucking in the girl under a thick white comforter. The rays of the breaking dawn stream into the room through the stained glass windows and cast a pale haunting glow on her. Believe me when I say she looks like sleeping beauty. But I am no prince, and no amount of true love’s kiss can wake her up from the poison that Sergio cursed her with. “I’ve administered the antidote into her and treated her wounds. She’s lucky to still be alive,” the doctor says. The nurse steps out of the ro

LILY’s POV   Ibraco? Kane Ibraco? I frown. Why does the name sound so familiar? This man, Kane, releases his hold on me and allows me to take in my surroundings. Every move I make is painful, it is as if my body burns with invisible fire but I strain to move anyway. I am on a bed, a feathery comfy bed and there is a great wide window that has been opened to let in the gentle sunlight. The room is magnificently huge, bigger than my family house even, and every piece of furniture that inhabits this mahogany themed room oozes style and quality. My eyes return from the ogling of the room and I look down at my body only to realize that I am wearing a clean white cotton dress. From the corner of my eye, I notice a movement and my head jerks back up to see a big, tall man with light brown hair pulled back in a ponytail and recognition flashes across my face. “You…” I whisper, ignoring the scratchy dryness in my throat. Isn't thi

KANE’s POV   I look at the girl with my arms folded across my chest. Lily, that is her name. Lilies are supposed to be frail, beautiful and fleeting, but I see an unyielding fire burning behind her hazel eyes and because of this, I know that this is no ordinary lily. This girl is a fighter and no one on the face of the earth will be able to stand in her way until she sees justice served. So how can I reject her plea? How can I deny her the vengeance she so desperately seeks? How can I tell her that once you join the Mafia, you will forever be bonded to it for life? That there is no escaping the life of the damned once you take the sacred vow? The life of the Mafia is a dark and treacherous one; one wrong move and it can cost you everything. Everything. I once so desperately tried to run away from all this. But you see? I ended up coming back, back down this forsaken road. I ended up paying for the sins of trying to run away from my fate.

KANE’s POV   The night is cool and the breeze is calming, but there is no sense of peace radiating from Lily. As I wrap my arms around her to steady the gun in her hand, she stiffens and I know all too well why. It is because of Sergio. That man scarred her, hurt her and broke her. And he haunts her even in her dreams. Each night I wake up to hear her muffled cries through the walls that separate our rooms. I had specifically arranged for Lily to sleep in the room next to mine; away from the rest of the men’s and foolishly thought it would give her more sense of security. I was wrong. She thinks no one hears her when she wakes up screaming from her nightmares, but I hear her. Her dreams are relentless and they are eating her alive. Every night when she stifles her cries, I want nothing more than to kick down the door to her room and take her in my arms, to wipe away every tear and tell her that everything will be alright. But tha

LILY’s POV   “Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be eager to deal out death in judgement. For even the very wise cannot see all ends.” — JRR Tolkien I step onto the ring and all around me, the men quieten down to a hush. A gentle breeze picks up and blows at my hair, sending a few stray strands to dance around my eyes. Dance…yes. This is only a dance, I tell myself. Except it is a dance of blades. Baldy makes his way to the ring and takes his stance opposite me. He winks at me and licks his lips in the most obscene of ways. Maybe I should aim for his tongue first. I tuck the strands of hair behind my ear and stretch out my right hand in front of me with the blade held tight. The tip gleams under the sunlight, it momentarily blinds me and I stagger back slightly. This elicits a laugh from Baldy. “Sweetheart, why don’t you just give up? You can’t even stan