SYNOPSIS

How much is too much?

Five years—that was the deal. Renzo Zulla gave up five years of his life to repay a debt to an organization that only wanted to break him before they could make him. Their way, their rules. He doesn’t move without their okay, even if his latest job puts him right in front of her. But the five years are almost up, and he knows exactly where he’s going first.

Love doesn’t follow rules …

Heartbroken and alone—that’s how she survives. Lucia Marcello is alive, but a part of her still feels dead without him. She’s spent far too much time running away from her past and the pain she constantly holds tight because it’s easier than hating the people who caused it. But life has a way of bringing you back when your heart never will.

Love doesn’t fade …

But time means nothing, and forever might be only an illusion for them. Because where fate doesn’t step in, reality does. If hate is a game you play with your heart, and contempt is the game you play with your mind … where does that leave love?

Vendettas don’t care about love.

It’s in God’s hands now.

Note: CONTEMPT is the final book in a three-book

Trilogy following the same couple.

EXCERPT #1

“We can grab some of the jam on the way out,” John said. “Don’t worry about it, bella.”

Siena was quick to reply, “No, I can make a trip around. I need to grab something else that way, too. You and Lucia keep going. She wants to grab—what is that, again?”

Lucia didn’t look back at her brother as she muttered, “Some loose tea.”

Kind of wishing I didn’t want it at all, now. I wouldn’t have to be here to begin with. Hell, even her thoughts were a particular brand of nasty today.

“Yeah, so take her,” Siena said, dropping Lucia’s arm and giving John a pointed look. “And I will meet you at the entrance on the way out of the market.”

It further proved what she believed—the woman was going to attempt to force Lucia to make nice with her brother by not giving her a choice when she left her alone with him. That was laughable. Lucia could sit in a room with anyone and say absolutely nothing. They could be looking her right in the eye, and she could keep her expression blank, and her mouth firmly fucking shut.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lucia watched Siena drop a quick kiss to John’s lips and murmured something she couldn’t hear. Whatever it was, it made her brother pout. Like a fucking little boy. It was almost amusing.

“I will meet you at the entrance,” John grumbled when Siena stepped away from him.

“Good,” she replied.

Siena patted his cheek with a soft hand, and then just as fast, headed into the crowd, back the way they first came. Lucia didn’t miss how one of two enforcers that were following them for the day headed after her without a word. She didn’t think to ask her brother why he had enforcers trailing this close to them, but she didn’t need to, either.

They were mafia kids.

Well, even if they weren’t kids anymore.

Something dangerous was always following close behind. The next attempt on someone’s life was always right around the corner. Not to mention, Lucia didn’t know all the details about the past year as she hadn’t thought to ask, but she did hear whispers. Her brother had taken over a rival family—people were unhappy.

That meant bad things.

Probably another reason for the enforcers.

With Siena gone, that left John and Lucia.

Alone.

Shit.

Lucia sighed, wanting to get this done and over with. At least with the buffer of Siena between them, she didn’t feel so out of place with her brother. Waving a hand at her brother and heading into the crowd, Lucia said, “Well, come on, then. It’s cold, and I don’t want to freeze out here for too long.”

John chuckled, and his footsteps followed behind. “You didn’t mind five minutes ago when Siena was here.”

Lucia stiffened.

Asshole.

He would have to say that, wouldn’t he? She wished he just wouldn’t start to begin with. Make this easy on her, and all that shit. Nothing could ever be that simple in Lucia’s life. It was never simple.

“Yeah, well …”

What else could she say?

Apparently, she didn’t need to say anything because John had all sorts of things to say. Fucking perfect.

“What do you need me to say, Lucia?” John asked quietly from behind her. She still refused to turn around and face him even as he spoke. Maybe it was rude, but it was better than him seeing the hatred shining back in her eyes. She didn’t want to hear anything he said, but here they were, it seemed. Just her luck, too. “Tell me what to say so that we can move on, and I will do that. Sorry isn’t going to be good enough—I get that. So what will do it for you?”

For a second, she stopped walking. Her heart stuttered—playing tricks on her again, as the emotions blew all around her like the people still swarming The Annex. The tension between her and John still felt thick and loaded with all the things she had said to him before this—things she knew hurt him because God, she just needed him to understand and feel the way he made her feel—and things they had yet to say to one another.

Did he really want to know?

Did he honestly want to know what would make this better?

Because she didn’t think anything would.

Slowly, Lucia turned to stare at her brother. The familiar prickling behind her eyes said the tears were coming, and she bet John could see the water shining back at him, but she held it all at bay. She would not cry. Not then.

“You’re right,” Lucia said, “sorry won’t be good enough, John.”

“But I am sorry.”

She believed him for no other reason than the truth staring back in his gaze, and the way he dropped every pretense he’d been holding onto before this moment. She heard the truth in his voice, and how it colored his tone thickly with emotion she understood all too well.

Regret.

Pain.

She knew that well because she felt it constantly.

So, yeah, she believed that he was sorry.

Lucia nodded. “Now.”

“The day it happened. The day I found you. The day Renzo was taken away. That very second, Lucia, I was sorry,” her brother muttered, his tone aching. “That was not what was supposed to happen.”

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ABOUT BETHANY-KRIS

Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to four young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time.

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