Savage Roses

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. Copyright © 2023 Sienne Vega All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review. For more information, visit: www.siennevega.com. Cover Design by Steamy Designs Rubi, Thank you for answering every single silly question I ever had about organized crime. Even if a mafia aficionado like yourself had no idea you were actually helping me publish my books. I will always miss you. ❤️Love, Sienne contents Content Warning - PLEASE READ! Prologue - Stefania 1. Salvatore 2. Salvatore 3. Delphine 4. Salvatore 5. Delphine 6. Salvatore 7. Salvatore 8. Lena 9. Delphine 10. Delphine 11. Salvatore 12. Delphine 13. Salvatore 14. Salvatore 15. Salvatore 16. Delphine 17. Salvatore 18. Delphine 19. Delphine 20. Ernest 21. Delphine 22. Salvatore 23. Delphine 24. Salvatore 25. Salvatore 26. Volchok 27. Delphine 28. Delphine 29. Salvatore 30. Delphine 31. Delphine 32. Salvatore 33. Lucius 34. Salvatore 35. Delphine 36. Delphine 37. Salvatore Epilogue - Delphine Savage Roses Playlist Coming Soon: Cruel Delights Stay Connected Also by Sienne Vega About the Author content warning - please read! Hello readers! We’re finally here, book 3 of the Gangsters & Roses series! Every reader, including myself, is unique in terms of tastes, likes/dislikes, and even triggers. With that said, in my opinion, Savage Roses is significantly darker than the previous books in the series. While I can promise you there will be many moments when Salvatore and Delphine show how much they love each other, there will also be many moments where they are pushed to some really dark places, both psychologically and physically. Please take care! I really do not want to make anyone upset, so if you think the content might be too much for you and need to forego reading this book, no hard feelings at all. Below are more specifics of what could potentially be upsetting so you can make that decision for yourself: Graphic sex and violence/gore Graphic torture/disfigurement Graphic nonconsensual sexual violence Graphic depictions of human sex trafficking Brief depictions of nonconsensual sexual situations Brief depiction of suicide and suicidal ideation Brief nonconsensual drug and alcohol-related use Brief depiction of domestic violence Mentions of child abuse and child SA This book is not suitable for readers under the age of eighteen. <3 Sienne prologue - stefania march 1988 A woman’s wedding day. The happiest day of her life. The first day of her happily ever after. So they say. Everybody leaves out the most important part. It’s only a happily ever after if the guy you’re spending forever with is the guy you’re in love with. Nobody wants to talk about the other kind of wedding day. The worst day of a woman’s life. The first day of many to come that’ll be hell. A given when you’re marrying the devil. “You look gorgeous, Stef!” Marsia cries out, coming up from behind. She’s taller than even me, which says a lot considering I model. A big smile spreads onto her face as she stares at our reflection in the full-length mirror. With both hands, she gathers my long blonde hair and twists it into different styles. “Just wait ’til we’re done with you. Most beautiful bride ever. Hair up or down?” “Down,” I say. Florina shakes her head from where she stands in the background. “Up. Mr. Mancino requested.” My mouth pulls tight. Marsia notices and squeezes my shoulders. “It’s okay, doll,” she says. “You’ll still be a ten. It’ll show off this long model neck of yours. I’ll go check on the dress.” I barely notice her wander off. The air seems to be running short, sucked dry from the room. It becomes a furnace despite the breeze blowing the window curtains and the ceiling fans spinning. Which makes no sense, but it’s how I feel. No air. No oxygen. Can’t breathe. My skin’s feverish and rosy, like I’ve been baking under the sun. Today is the day I have always dreamed of. The positive affirmation echoes in my dazed head. Fake and meaningless and gone within seconds. It doesn’t help take my mind off the situation or make it any prettier. It sure as hell doesn’t help my lungs breathe. I stagger over to the credenza where a tray of refreshments and appetizers have been laid out for us girls to nibble on. Prosecco. Bruschetta. Antipasto. Among other things. I grab a bottled water and chug. I drink ’til there’s nothing left. ’Til the plastic crinkles under my slender fingers. All the while, halfway across the room, Florina remains quiet. She shifts through a handful of wedding documents, my brains for the day. My brains every day. Probably stuff like guest lists, seating arrangements, ceremony schedules, and whatever else. Her round face is focused, so I think nothing of it. …until an envelope slips free and floats to the floor. My gaze follows it. She scurries to snatch it up, but it’s too late. I’ve set sights on it, and I’ve seen the name scrawled on the back. “Flo, what was that?” “Nothing important. Just mail.” “Just mail. It didn’t look like ‘just mail.’ Lemme see!” I lunge for it, and she attempts to beat me to the punch. Long arms come in handy, whereas short and stubby ones don’t. We crash into each other like we’re linebackers playing football. I come out on top, holding up the envelope beyond her reach. Still unsteady and dizzy, I put space between us by retreating to the open window. My sharp gasp fills the room and eyes flit up to her. “Flo, you were gonna keep this from me?” She bows her head, her shoulders slumped. “You shouldn’t read it. Nothing