man’s ramblings. You are exactly where you belong, doing what must be done for your family.”
I could kill him. I want to kill him, slowly and painfully, yet I’m unable to move.
I just ordered her death. How could he let me do that?
As if coming out of a trance, I find myself standing in the middle of my room, dusk darkening every corner. I don’t remember leaving my father’s office, nor how I came to be here.
My Mila. I’ll never again kiss her lips or drown in her touch. I’ll never run my fingers across her soft, smooth, olive skin. I’ll never hear her laugh, always reminding me that I’m destined for more than murder and money.
My stomach rolling, I run for my private bathroom. My breakfast and lunch hit the water, and I heave until there’s nothing but bile forcing its way up my throat.
I can’t stop my mind from envisioning my Mila riddled with bullet holes in her father’s car, murdered coldly in broad daylight—on my order. My own father tricked me into ensuring their assassination.
Slumping down onto the tiled floor, I catch my breath, yet I still can’t feel a single limb attached to my body.
She was the light to my darkness, and together, we were the hope blanketing the city.
There’s nothing but darkness now.
Dragging myself into my room, I open the top drawer of my chest, pick up the shooter my cousin had given me a long time ago, and fall to my knees in the middle of the room. Moonlight filters through the windows, casting shadows around me. Up on the wall, I look at the intricately carved wooden cross hanging above my bed.
Where was the Lord’s protective hand when I needed him to sway my decision, knowing what was to come?
My Mila.
My love.
My soul.
Releasing the safety and turning the gun, my lips stretch as I slide the barrel into my mouth.
A single tear falls down my cheek, landing on my hand. Nothing is ever fair in the City of Vita. Every person here is born into a life of survival and struggle—the Marocchi’s and Camarco’s no exception. Though we’re the disease that plagues the people. Mila and I saw our families for what they are: ruthless men, mad with power.
One.
Two.
Before I get to the count of three, the door to my room swings open, banging against the wall, and Cristian, my cousin and confidant, rushes in and yanks the gun from my hand, throwing it across the floor.
“She’s not dead!” he exclaims. “Your father is pissed. I just heard him shouting on the phone, asking where she is.”
She’s alive?
My heart beats frantically. My Mila is still alive!
“What about Alessandro and Giana?”
Dropping his gaze, he shakes his head. “They’re both dead.”
Cristian hauls me up to my feet and snaps his fingers in front of my face. “She’s alone now.”
Tomorrow, we turn eighteen, and will unite as one to end this era of violence. My father’s death is next.
And so it begins…
Chapter One
Mila – 28 Years Old
The City of Vita is one rich with violence, plagued by a centuries-old feud. Legend has it, the city was rumoured to bring luck and fortune. Upon hearing these rumours, two friends brought their families here in search of gold that was said to fill the mines under the rich soil. And like most stories, their friendship was torn apart by greed. They began to fight over the vast amounts of wealth they had acquired, and since neither of them would relinquish their hold to the land and leave, they split the city into two, taking every opportunity to try to kill the other. As time went on, the two families grew, and more people arrived, looking to find their own riches. Those people eventually took sides, and a war broke out that is still being fought to this day, two hundred years later. The gold is long gone, but what was mined brought abundant wealth to both families. Over the years, the gold was invested, and in return, the families acquired enormous fortunes.
The Annual Peace Ball, where weapons and grievances are left at the door to the mayor’s mansion, commences around me. Once a year, the mayor brings the Camarco’s and Marocchi’s together in an attempt to broker a peace deal between the two warring families. It was started over a hundred years ago to garner peace. Though neither side ever agrees to anything, it’s mandatory for us all to attend. We have to show a gesture of fighting