Page 1 of The Mafia’s Fiancee

Chapter 1

Luke

“Emma!” I bellowed it, not caring if any of the guests at the Tropican heard me. They didn’t matter.

All that mattered was my fiancée—my fiancée of only a couple of hours who had just been kidnapped and taken away.

I ran as hard as I could, watching in horror as they van sped up. They took a turn sharply, recklessly zooming further away from the resort property.

Then they were gone.

The drive was empty. Mist from the rain hovered, slightly disturbed by the air current of the vehicle dashing off.

She was gone.

Gone.

They took her.

My feet slapped hard on the slick pavement as I dropped into a jog, then a walk. The vibration of my hard run traveled up my legs, but I was otherwise numb.

I was rooted in disbelief, unable to do anything but stare at the void of where she was a moment ago, trapped in the back of that van. It happened so fast that I struggled to process it.

If I wasn’t breathing so hard, from the sprint and the panic, I might have thought it was a dream. A nightmare.

Blinking hard, I strained to catch my breath.

“Luke?” Randy shouted out for me. The electric golf cart whined as it hurried to me as fast as mu coworker could get it to move. “Luke.”

His footsteps sounded louder. He jumped out of the cart and ran up to me where I stood, staring at the road. “What the hell—what’s going on?”

I didn’t turn to face him, too stuck in shock.

Underneath the fear and anger that someone dared to take Emma, I felt a sickening sense of regret.

Jimmy warned me. He told me to give her up.

It looked like he wasn’t joking. White-hot fury coursed through me, and I tried not to roar. Fisting my hands was the only action I could do to vent my violent energy. As I turned to face Randy, he furrowed his brow at my arms shaking with the force of straining.

“Luke.” He shook his head. “What the fuck is going on?”

I had so much to tell him. Too many things to update him with. At the top of that list was the fact that my brand-new fiancée was a mafia princess, the daughter of a crime lord. Right below that point was my newfound identity as the secret son of Marlo Rossini.

Jimmy warned me to give her up, and it seemed that someone else had shared the sentiment that Emma and I shouldn’t be together.

“I...” I had no clue where to begin. All my thoughts centered on finding Emma and getting her back. I had to, but I was limited in how to start that process. The men who dared to grab her like that, they were dead. The people who ordered them to kidnap her, they’d beg for my mercy—none of which they’d receive.

“I need to go get her.” Those were the only words I could string together. Honest words. I didn’t know how. I wasn’t sure where to begin, but I had to save her from her captors.

“Emma? Your VIP guest?” Randy frowned, looking around like he worried we’d be caught not on the job. He had been here all day, a normal, routine day at work. My day had been interspersed with so many surprises I once again struggled with the skepticism that this was really happening.

“Emma’s not my guest. She’s my—” I raked my hand through my hair and tore my gaze from him to stare at the empty road again. “She’s mine,” I clarified simply.

“For fuck’s sake man.” Randy stepped away then faced me again, shaking his head and muttering. “I get it. You’ve been sleeping with the guest. I’m not surprised with how she kept stalking you and you couldn’t stop watching her, but man...” He gestured at the road. “This is— What the fuck is this? Someone just kidnapped her and—”

He couldn’t connect the dots, operating on confusion and banking on too few details. Witnessing the tail end of a kidnapping was throwing him for a loop, but my friend had never been a dull one.

“Who is she?” He furrowed his brow, boring me with a worried gaze. “Because that shit looked practiced, man. Like the fucking cartel or something.”