Shan R.K

The lines that blur between love and war are often the only thing keeping you alive.

I wasn't a full Italian. My mother was a Russian, a female of the Bratva. To create peace between the Famiglia her family, the Bratva gave her up. 

My father always said I was born lucky, I would never have to marry for power. I could choose. And for a while, I believed him. For a while, I thought I could marry Leonardo Catelli.

Until HE, Marco Catelli, eldest son of the Capo of the Famiglia lost his betrothed. Until he rose to be the Capo Dei Capi, The Boss of all Bosses. Until he needed an heir, a wife. Until he chose me. 

My name is Aliyana Capello, daughter of Consigliere Sartini Capello and this is my confession. 

"Bury him, mourn his death. But come Monday morning you mine Aliyana." Marco

The story follows Aliyana Capello and Marco Catelli's life and the events leading them to the alter.

When Lorenzo Catelli is murdered, Marco promises to avenge his brother's death with the help of Aliyana and his siblings. But as the answers are found, more people in the 5th State are murdered. When a cold past comes back, Marco finally sees some light in his corner. But all is not as it seems.
Enemies are never far and few in the 5th State.

Forced into a war he never wanted to protect the one he loves, Marco must choose the extent of the crimes he will commit and the enemies he will make especially if that enemy happens to be his future wife.

Boss of All Bosses

 “Aliyana, your father has been calling you, where are your ears?” Ilaria yells from the glass door leading to the pool I’m currently floating in. The sun has not shied away since Ren’s death. I still can’t believe it’s two weeks. It feels longer, but not so long that I've forgotten him, but long enough that I wake up thinking about seeing him, only to realize he isn’t coming. 


 “I didn’t hear him. I’ll be in now.” 


 Ilaria doesn’t say anything else, nor does she move. She has acted strange since the funeral, almost sorrowful. I received no snarky remarks from her, or bitching fits. But, like now, she stares at me. I find it strange, but also hopeful. 


 Since my conversation with Marco, and what he said about her, I pity her in a way. How must she feel to be stuck with an entire brood of kids who aren’t her own, or forced to sleep with a man who has nothing left to give her but a bank card and some empty sex. 
