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again, how could he not?
    He looked at Antonio and Ruggero. He owed it
to his men to at least consider the possibility. Ignoring it could
get them all killed, could destroy the Lucchesi family, could
destroy the lives of the hundreds of people who depended on him.
Dom or his sons could carry on without him, but only as long as the
men followed them.
    The death of a capo di famiglia often
brought challengers into the open. Unless there was a clear
successor, preferably a direct heir. And even then, nothing could
be assumed.
    If he didn’t marry soon and produce an heir,
he was going to have to openly declare Dom his successor. Making
that clear to the men would help Dom if the time ever came.
    If Enrico didn’t marry Delfina, that time
might be imminent.

CHAPTER 3

    At the sight of the dark purple bruise on her
cheek, a lump formed in Kate’s throat. She was such an
idiot. Tears rolled down her face, and she turned away from the
bathroom mirror.
    Wiping her eyes, she sucked in a lungful of
air. She wasn’t an idiot. She’d just been too quick to
trust. Too impulsive for her own good. The next man she thought
about marrying would have to prove himself to her—in spades—before
he ever put a ring on her finger. She wasn’t going to make the same
mistake twice.
    If she ever decided to marry again.
    Swallowing down the tightness in her throat,
Kate grabbed an overnight bag and filled it with clothes,
toiletries, a few photos, and some keepsakes she didn’t want to
leave behind. Nothing Vince would miss in case he came home early.
Her passport went in her purse.
    Then it struck her: just where exactly was
she going? She couldn’t go to her parents. Or Terri. Vince knew
where they lived. And he knew her friends in New York. Not that she
felt close enough to any of them to ask for help.
    Fuck! What was she going to do?
    The exact opposite of what he would expect.
Vince would automatically go to New York looking for her. He
wouldn’t think she’d stay in Italy. All she needed to decide was
where.
    The next big problem was money. She needed
cash he couldn’t trace. All her credit cards were in his name; her
own credit was atrocious. If only she’d known back then what her
poor choices were going to cost her now. But what was done was
done.
    Damn it. She had to call her parents. Kate
picked up her cell phone, then put it back down. She’d better get
out of the apartment first. That call was bound to be a long one,
and it would be just like Vince to march back in and demand to talk
to her. And if he saw the bag, he wouldn’t let her leave.
    Not if he was in the Mafia.
    She rubbed her aching cheek again, then her
eyes flew open. What was she thinking? She couldn’t go out in
public with a big bruise on her face. Jesus, her mind was careening
all over, like she’d turned into a kid with a monster case of
attention deficit disorder. Kate took a deep breath. She needed to
get a grip.
    In the bathroom, she rummaged through her
makeup kit, applying concealer and powder to little effect. She was
just too damn fair; every little freckle stood out, much less a
bruise. Kate cursed her genes. Why couldn’t she have nice olive
skin like everyone else here?
    After repacking her makeup, Kate picked up
her bag and gave the little apartment one last sweeping look. It
wasn’t much, but she’d had a lot of hope for the future when she
and Vince had moved in.
    So much for that.
    Breathing in deep, Kate tried to shove down
the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. Vince had been the
guy she’d hoped for—a man’s man who wanted a family, who loved and
cherished her, who wanted a long and happy future with her, not
just a night or a weekend in the Hamptons. He wasn’t like all the
rich, slick men she’d dated before him; Vince wanted to settle
down. He wasn’t afraid of commitment.
    On their second date, he’d told her that one
day they’d marry, that he, Vince Andretti, would be her husband.
She’d known him just two