Legacy of Heathens

From the moment my twin sister set her eyes on Matteo, she decided he was the one. We were just kids, but that didn’t matter to her. In her heart, she believed they were destined to be together. So when their arranged engagement was announced, no one was surprised. At least, that’s what I thought. But lately, something had felt off. Wherever I went, Matteo was there. Lurking in the dark, concealed in the shadows, always watching.

I was the dutiful daughter. Or at least that was what it looked like from the outside. Deep inside, I was suffocating. I longed for something I didn’t know how or where to find. But I kept my façade firmly in place while I searched for answers. Until one New Orleans night changed it all. Nikola Nikolaev—the heir to the Crescent City’s ruthless criminal empire—caught me in a club that was off-limits. And just like that, my carefully constructed world began to crumble. We never saw it coming.

Marriage arrangements were nothing new in our world. Mine was sealed before I even took my first breath—an unbreakable pact forged to ensure peace between two powerful families. I, Penelope DiMauro, was to be wed to the ruthless heir to the Omertà criminal empire, Enzo Marchetti, on Christmas Day. We uttered our vows “Till death do us part…” and just like that, I became his. His wife. His possession.

Have you ever wanted someone so intensely it felt like fire under your skin? Yeah. Me neither. Not until Gabriel Santos. He walked into the wreckage of my life like he’d always belonged there—calm, controlled, and devastatingly beautiful. I was a storm. He was stillness. And when I shattered right in front of him, he didn’t flinch. He looked at me like I was a masterpiece. Like I already belonged to him. That was all it took.