The Bride They Should Never Have Betrayed

Vivienne stared at the little boy, her mind reeling as the pieces clicked together with sickening precision.

“Antonio’s brother,” she said, looking at Salvatore. “Dominic. He died three years ago. The police ruled it a suicide.”

“It was murder,” Salvatore corrected, stroking Leo’s hair. The ruthless mob boss looked incredibly fragile in the dim light of the bunker. “Dominic found out what Antonio was doing—selling out the families to the Cartel. Antonio killed him for it. He locked Leo away in a safe house to keep me in line. If I moved against Antonio, Leo would die.”

Vivienne looked at the terrified child. He was the true heir. The only innocent thing left in the DeLuca bloodline.

“Why did your daddy have a picture of me, Leo?” Vivienne asked gently, crouching down so she was at eye level with the boy.

Leo sniffled, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “Daddy said you were his secret sister. He said if he ever went away, I was supposed to find the police lady in the picture. Because you protect people.”

A lump the size of a stone formed in Vivienne’s throat. A brother she never knew she had, murdered before she could meet him. Believing in her until his dying breath.

The heavy thud of combat boots echoed just outside the bunker’s thick wooden walls.

“Check the crypts!” a muffled voice barked. “The boss wants them alive. For now.”

Vivienne stood up, her police instincts overriding her shock. She checked her magazine. Seven rounds left. Not enough to take down a death squad.

“We can’t stay here,” she whispered, grabbing a heavy iron crowbar from a dusty workbench.

“There’s an old prohibition exit that leads to the subway tunnels,” Salvatore said, hoisting Leo onto his hip. “But it’s sealed shut from the outside.”

Vivienne looked down at her elaborate, ten-thousand-dollar wedding gown. She grabbed the heavy silk and lace skirt and ripped it, tearing the fabric all the way to her knees. She kicked off her white heels, leaving her barefoot on the cold stone.

“When I open the door, run,” she ordered.

“I am not leaving you behind,” Salvatore growled.

“You are keeping my nephew safe,” Vivienne snapped, the word nephew feeling strangely right on her tongue. “Go.”

She kicked the bunker door open, diving out into the hallway.

Two men in tactical gear spun around, raising their rifles. Vivienne didn’t hesitate. She fired twice, dropping them both. She grabbed one of their dropped rifles, slinging it over her shoulder, and provided cover fire as Salvatore rushed past with Leo.

They sprinted through the winding catacombs, the sound of the subway trains vibrating through the walls ahead of them.

They reached the end of the tunnel. A heavy steel grate blocked their path to the subway platform. It was secured with a massive, modern padlock.

Vivienne raised the crowbar, smashing it against the lock again and again. Sparks flew in the dim light. Behind them, flashlights pierced the gloom. Antonio’s men were closing in.

“Hurry,” Salvatore urged, shielding Leo with his body.

With one final, desperate swing, the padlock shattered. Vivienne threw the grate open.

They tumbled out onto the abandoned maintenance platform of the subway station, the roar of an approaching train deafening them.

But as the train’s headlights washed over the platform, a figure stepped out from behind a concrete pillar, blocking their escape.

Vivienne raised her gun, her finger tightening on the trigger.

Then she stopped.

It was Celeste.

The maid of honor’s dress was torn, her makeup smeared with tears and soot. But her hands weren't empty. She was holding a suppressed pistol, aimed directly at Vivienne’s chest.

“I’m sorry, Viv,” Celeste sobbed, her hands shaking violently. “I am so, so sorry.”

Vivienne stared at the woman who had been her best friend since the police academy. “Put the gun down, Celeste. You don’t have to do this.”

“He has my sister, Viv,” Celeste cried, the gun wavering. “Antonio said if I didn't help him frame you, if I didn't distract him in the hallway so the men could get into position… he would skin her alive. He’s going to burn the whole city.”

Celeste lowered the gun slightly, reaching into her torn bodice.

She pulled out a small, blood-stained red ledger and tossed it at Vivienne’s feet.