The Don's Forbidden Truce

The Don's Forbidden Truce An Enemies to Lovers Mafia Romance Amber Row Copyright Copyright © 2023 by Amber Row All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. Contents Prologue 1. Giulia 2. Roberto 3. Giulia 4. Roberto 5. Giulia 6. Roberto 7. Giulia 8. Roberto 9. Giulia 10. Roberto 11. Giulia 12. Giulia 13. Roberto 14. Roberto 15. Giulia 16. Roberto 17. Roberto 18. Giulia 19. Roberto 20. Giulia 21. Roberto 22. Giulia 23. Roberto 24. Giulia 25. Giulia 26. Roberto 27. Giulia Epilogue FREE Romance book Prologue The room is quiet, but that doesn't mean it's empty. I can't make out anything through the thick fabric of the bag over my head. My wrists are still tied behind the chair I'm in. I can only imagine I'm in some back alley, a decrepit, abandoned warehouse, or somewhere equally filthy. I'm ready for a fight. My nerves are on end. I can't remember how I got into this situation, but the last thing I can recall is saying goodbye to Natalie as I left our home for a meeting. Is she here, too? I grit my teeth and listen harder for any sign of what might be going on here. Someone grabs the bag and slips it off my head as if on cue, making me blink in the surprisingly not-dim lighting. I'm not in a rat-infested back alley but rather a high-end conference room with no windows. At least I was right about not being alone. Four other mafiosos that I recognize immediately are blinking around the table as the bags come off of their heads as well. The man removing the bags is wearing a crisp suit and says nothing as he steps off to the side, but I'm too busy looking over the other Dons in the room to try questioning him. Nico Attolini, the Don of the Attolini family in New York, is gritting his teeth as he looks around. The Ricci Don from Long Island—Alessandro—looks equally pissed as he pops his neck from side to side. A Don from the Russo family in California, Antonio, is tied up in the chair to my left. To my right, in the same situation, is Anthony Giovanni from the infamous Chicago crime family. And me. Reyes Gatto, the final Don of the Five Families. I wonder if my family in New Jersey has any idea where I've gone because I'm fairly certain I am no longer there. There's no giveaway to tell me where I am, based only on this room's clean, business-centric setup. We Don’s meet one another's eyes occasionally, but otherwise, we all remain stoic. It's a simple rule in the mafia, something we've likely all understood since we were small children. Say nothing, ever, that could put the family in danger. The silence doesn't last long as the suit in the room finally opens the door and in walks another immaculately-dressed man who smiles at everyone tied up as if we're precisely who he wanted to see. He sits at the end of the table near Attolini, clearing his throat and waving at his suited assistant to come around and stand beside him. "My apologies, gentlemen. This seemed the best method of getting us all into the same room without any unnecessary violence or trouble." He does know who he's talking to, right? We're all unnecessary violence and trouble. I glare hard at the stranger, debating between cussing him out or remaining silent with the others. I choose the latter. "As expected, you're not the chattiest bunch," he chuckles, straightening his tie and looking at each of us. "I'm afraid your lifestyles would make you believe this is an antagonistic meeting, but I assure you that's not the case. You were brought here under these circumstances to avoid potential conflict between the five of you for no other reason—you have nothing to fear in this room. No one will be harmed here. I won't ransom you or your loved ones, and I assure you that no threats will be made." "Not by you, anyway," Alessandro Ricci mutters. "Tell us your name, and we'll decide if you're a threat based on your reputation." The man nods. "Very fair. Though I'm afraid my name isn't one you'll know. Lawrence Smith." "That's not your real name," I decide immediately. "No," he admits. "It's not. But call me Larry, and trust that you also wouldn't know my real name, even if I could tell it to you. It's simply our protocol. Something we do for everyone's safety." "And who exactly is 'we?'" Russo presses, speaking for the first time from my left. Larry smiles. "That is always the question. I'll answer you, but first, I have a question of my own. Gentlemen, how would you like to change the reputation of the mafia?" We all stare at him like he's an idiot. Probably because everyone else here, like me, thinks he must be. "It's the fucking mafia," Giovanni to my right says. "What's there to change?" "What indeed," Larry says, raising his eyebrows. "How many of you have lost family and friends at young ages to the violence your lifestyle entails? How many widows do you know, and how long will it be before your lovers and wives find themselves in that number?" He ignores the way Alessandro swears at him and goes on. "I know it's difficult to live your life in the shadows, no matter the power your families afford. The world thinks of the mafia as an underground shadow of the past, but it could be more. Much more. The Five Families working together with us? It would change everything your organizations have ever stood for." "You're saying you want to make a bunch of mafiosos into the new Peace Corps?" I say dryly. "Good luck with that." Larry laughs. "That'd be a sight. But