Sin and Redemption

Sara was never supposed to become my wife.

Of course, I had noticed her before. It was hard not to. She was a natural beauty with light brown doe eyes and beautiful caramel hair. Only a few years separated us, but she had already been promised to someone else, whereas I hadn’t even wanted to consider marriage. She had taken care of her siblings and attended college while I’d spent my days torturing enemies as Enforcer and my nights partying in clubs and banging random girls. Our paths had rarely crossed until a single day forced our worlds to collide in the most devastating way. A day with the potential to shatter us and our future if we let it.

I glanced at my watch again. I had been waiting at the main entrance of Barnard College for ten minutes. Flavio never made me wait. After I’d closed the top buttons of my coat and readjusted my scarf, I took the steps down and headed toward the wrought-iron gates that marked the end of campus and opened up to Broadway.

I wasn’t surprised when I didn’t see his car. He always stopped right in front of the gates so I could easily spot him from the entrance. People were busy coming and going, but there was nobody I knew. Many new faces had joined the row of distantly familiar ones now that the semester had started. Apart from a friendly nod here and there, nobody acknowledged me. Making friends outside of our mafia world was difficult. There were always secrets, security concerns, and the fear of the person being an undercover police officer. I had my siblings, cousins, and my mom as friends, and I never had to hide who I was from them.

I glanced at my watch again.

Flavio, where are you?

Worry filled me.

I pulled my phone from my backpack to call Flavio when his name flashed on my screen. I smiled at the perfect timing. “You’re late,” I said without any reproach. I usually got carried away with tasks and forgot the time, so Flavio had to wait for me on more than one occasion. My brother was a saint (to me at least) so he never complained, and I definitely wouldn’t because of one mishap. “I promised Alea and Inessa I’d bake cookies with them.”

“My car broke down in the middle of nowhere after a job, Sara. I’m still waiting for someone to pick me up.”

I always felt a moment of sadness when I heard him talk about being a Made Man so casually, as if he wasn’t only seventeen and shouldn’t be in school instead. But that was the world we had been born into, and so far, it had been kinder to us than to others in our family.

“Don’t worry. Just send Dad. Or I can even take the trains.”

“You definitely won’t take public transportation. Dad’s in a meeting and too far away from campus. He told me to call Maximus. He had a job not far from where you are, so he’s on his way to pick you up and take you to Dad. Mom, Alea, and Inessa are already in the Hamptons.”

“Maximus?” I asked, surprised. Maximus Trevisan and I had only chatted a handful of times at social functions. I hardly knew him. But if Dad and Flavio trusted him, then I had absolutely no reason not to.

“He’s trustworthy. You’ll be fine.”

“I know. Don’t worry. I’m not concerned about my safety. Take care of yourself and get to the Hamptons safely. I’m fine.”

“All right. See you later.”

I hung up, and right then, a black pickup pulled up in front of me despite the honks of a taxi who had to swerve past it and the very unfriendly hand signals of the driver. The windows were tinted, so I couldn’t see who was behind the wheel. The polished chrome of the rims reflected the sun. I shielded my eyes and squinted at the pickup. The window on the passenger side slid down, and I spotted Maximus’s face inside the car. His dark hair was short, a bit longer at the top and mussed up, but not with hair products. It seemed he’d worked it in a disarray with his hands. “It’s me, Maximus Trevisan. Your father sent me,” he said in a deep baritone voice that sent a tiny shiver down my back. I cleared my throat, confused by my body’s reaction. My fingers on my leather tote bag tightened, and I stepped up to the vehicle, but before I could reach for the handle, Maximus jumped out, rounded the hood, and opened the door for me. “There you go.”

Another taxi stopped behind us and gestured wildly for Maximus to move his pickup. After one dark look from Maximus, the driver squeezed past us.

I peered up at him, warmth creeping over my cheeks. He was more than a head taller than me, and his tight white T-shirt did little to hide his muscles and tattoos. I wondered how many hours he had to spend in the gym to look like this and then decided I had no business contemplating that. I tore my gaze away and climbed into the passenger seat, confused by the residue heat in my body.

Maximus closed the door, then jogged to the driver’s side and got in. “Buckled up?” he asked, unfazed.

I nodded, still trying to determine why I felt slightly lightheaded in his proximity. Maximus was attractive with strong features, sharp cheekbones, a pronounced chin, and a very trained body. The most astonishing thing about him was his eyes, though. The unusual amber stood out against his almost black brows and thick black lashes. But I didn’t like tattoos, not just his—and he had many of them at first glance and probably more hidden beneath his clothes—but in general, and the stories I’d heard about Amo’s and his partying had never really made him attractive in any way.

“Your dad sent me. He knows we’re alone,” Maximus implored as he started the car. He obviously thought my silence was due to unease, which wasn’t the case, at least not in the way he assumed.

I gave him a quick smile, then loosely wrapped my arms around my leather tote bag. The feel of the smooth leather beneath my fingertips calmed me. My younger and outgoing sister, Inessa, often accused me of being too comfortable because I never sought contact with people outside our extended family, even at social functions. Suddenly alone with someone I didn’t know well, I realized how awkward I was because of “laziness.” “I know. I’m grateful you agreed to help.”

He pulled out of the parking lot. One of his arms was casually draped over the center console while he steered the vehicle with the other. “Sure. You need to get to your father safely.”

Silence fell over us as we headed out of the busier part of Manhattan. The Broadway was always a nightmare traffic-wise at this hour.

I wasn’t sure what to talk to Maximus about. After a day packed with courses, my brain was too frazzled to come up with topics we might have a common interest in. He probably didn’t want to hear about how medieval art depicted the plague and eschatology. Instead, I leaned back and gazed at the scenery passing the window. I hoped he wouldn’t take offense, but even knowing very little about him, he seemed like the type of person who preferred silence over idle chitchat.

“We’ll have to take a detour because of a major accident, and your father’s meeting was outside Manhattan,” Maximus explained. I simply nodded and closed my eyes.

“Fuck!”

His roar made me jump in surprise after I started drifting off. Before I could ask why he cursed like that, the truck swerved to the left. I let out a startled cry and clutched my bag. My gaze darted to Maximus, hoping for an explanation. But his attention shifted between the rearview mirror and the street ahead.

I turned around in my seat to find out what was going on. Three cars were close behind us, driving in a manner that suggested they didn’t care about traffic laws. Maximus swerved the vehicle around a corner and picked up his phone. “We’re being followed—”

My eyes widened when one of the cars sped up even more.

It collided with our rear, and my head hit the side window.

Everything turned black.