Chapter 1 - The Cost of an EmpireThe silence in the study stretched thin, broken only by the crack of a burning log in the massive stone fireplace behind Vincent Bellandi. Anna Hastings stared at the man sitting in the black metal wheelchair, trying to reconcile the cold, calculating syndicate boss with the broken physical form before her.
"And what would I receive?" Anna asked again, her voice steady despite the hammer of her pulse against her ribs.
Vincent leaned forward, resting his powerful forearms on his knees. "Security. Absolute, unquestioned protection. An estate where no one will ever touch you. And, when this war inside my organization is over, an annulment, a new identity, and a fortune large enough to ensure you never have to look at another man like your father."
Anna’s eyes narrowed. "And if I say no?"
"A car is waiting outside," Vincent replied smoothly. "You can walk out those doors, return to your father, and face whatever collectors are waiting for him at his apartment."
She thought of Philip Hastings—a man who had sold his only daughter to save his own skin without a moment of hesitation. A bitter laugh escaped her lips.
"My father is already dead to me," Anna whispered. She stood up, smoothing the fabric of her coat, and walked slowly toward Vincent’s desk. She stopped just inches from him, looking down into those unsettling gray eyes. "If I play this game, Mr. Bellandi, I want one more condition."
Vincent raised an eyebrow. "Name it."
"No secrets. If you want me to stand beside you as your wife, you treat me as a partner, not a prop."
For three agonizing seconds, Vincent said nothing. Then, a slow, dangerous smile curved his lips.
"Deal."
That night, the wedding was not a celebration of love, but a declaration of war. It took place in the private chapel of the Bellandi estate, witnessed only by Leo Mercer and a corrupt judge whose pockets Vincent lined with heavy coin. Anna wore a simple ivory dress that felt more like a shroud. When Vincent placed the heavy platinum and diamond band on her finger, his skin was warm, his grip firm.
As they drove back from the chapel, Leo turned from the front seat. "Mr. Bellandi, word just came down from the docks. Salvatore’s men are moving cargo through Pier 4 without authorization."
Vincent didn't blink. "Let them take it."
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Anna looked at him, confused. "Why? If they're stealing from you, doesn't that show weakness?"
Vincent turned his gaze to her, the shadows of the passing trees dancing across his harsh features. "Because, Anna, a wounded animal always tries to run when it smells blood. But if you leave the trap open, they will walk right into the cage themselves."
