{"id":6955,"date":"2022-08-10T11:50:31","date_gmt":"2022-08-10T15:50:31","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/?p=6955"},"modified":"2022-08-10T11:50:31","modified_gmt":"2022-08-10T15:50:31","slug":"shadowed-loyalty","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/whitefire-publishing.com\/read\/shadowed-loyalty\/","title":{"rendered":"Shadowed Loyalty"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
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By\u00a0Roseanna M. White<\/a><\/h3>\n\n\n\n

Sabina Mancari never questioned her life as the daughter of Chicago\u2019s leading mob boss until bullets tear apart her world and the man she thought she loved turns out to be an undercover Prohibition agent. Ambushes, bribes, murder, prostitution\u2014all her life, her father sheltered her from his crimes, but now she can no longer turn away from the truth. Maybe Lorenzo, the fianc\u00e9 who barely paid her any attention in the last two years, has the right idea by planning to escape their world. But can she truly turn her back on her family<\/a>?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

All his life, Lorenzo\u2019s family assumed he would become a priest, but he has different ideas\u2014marrying Sabina and pursuing a career in the law. Despite his morals, he knows at the core he isn\u2019t so unlike his mafiosi<\/em> father and brothers. Has he, in trying to protect Sabina, forced her into the arms of the Prohibition agent bent on tearing her family apart? How can they rebuild what has so long been neglected and do it in the shadow of the dark empire of the Mafia?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Shadowed Loyalty<\/em>, set amid the glitz and scandal of the Roaring Twenties, examines what love really means and how we draw lines between family and our own convictions, especially when following one could mean losing the other.<\/p>\n<\/div><\/div>\n\n\n\n

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Chapter 1<\/span><\/span><\/h3>\n\t\t\t\t\t

Hope had grown grey hairs,<\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/a>Hope had mourning on,<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Trenched with tears, carved with cares,<\/a><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hope was twelve hours gone;<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2014Gerard Manley Hopkins, from \u201cThe Wreck of the Deutschland\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

June, 1922<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Chicago<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The wind tore down the alley, forcing Sabina Mancari to hold her cloche hat in place with one hand as she stepped around the corner. Another turn and she\u2019d be at her father\u2019s office\u2014not a moment too soon. Her gaze flicked to the dark clouds knuckling on the horizon. If she were lucky, she\u2019d beat the storm and be able to hitch a ride home with Papa.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She took the final turn but then halted. Cars littered the street, parked helter-skelter in front of the steps to Papa\u2019s building. Men, stationed in formation at regular intervals, clutched guns aimed at the windows. Cops? They wore no uniforms, but her skin prickled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Every Sicilian, Papa said, was born able to detect a cop from a mile away. And every Sicilian was born with a distrust of them. He said it had come after centuries of government abuse. That kind of instinct, so hard-won, hadn\u2019t vanished from their blood just because they immigrated to America.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sabina took half a step back, eyes skittering in search of cover. Never cross a cop\u2019s path<\/em>,her parents had taught her all her life. She lived by that mantra. How many times had she taken one of Little G\u2019s hands in hers, gripped Serafina\u2019s in the other, and tugged them across the street to avoid a policeman out on his beat?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her fingers flexed against her palm, the habit of reaching for her siblings so ingrained that her hand still felt empty, years after Little G refused to hold it anymore. Years after Serafina\u2026<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No. Don\u2019t think about her<\/em>. The cops, she had to deal with the cops. How could she avoid them? They were everywhere.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The force of it hit her\u2014a dozen policemen, covering every door and window of Papa\u2019s office. Her throat closed. Her brows knit together. Plain clothes could mean only one thing\u2014Prohibition Bureau. But that didn\u2019t make sense. Everyone knew the Bureau was too corrupt to ever make an arrest.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A tall, fair-haired man raised a megaphone. \u201cCome out, Manny! It\u2019s all over! We\u2019ve got you surrounded!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sabina lifted a hand to her throat and retreated another step into the alleyway from which she\u2019d not fully emerged, willing the building at her side to keep her out of the sight of those men. This couldn\u2019t be happening. They couldn\u2019t be here for her father. That happened to other bosses\u2014she\u2019d heard the stories, she knew it was true\u2014but not Giorgio Mancari. He ran his operation too carefully. He knit his family too tightly. Omerta<\/em>, their code of silence, ruled too strongly\u2014no one would ever turn on a Mancari.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

So why were the Bureau boys surrounding Papa\u2019s office building?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDon\u2019t waste our time, Manny!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Without warning, the familiar tattoo of a Betsy sounded from a second-floor window. Papa himself or one of his many underlings? Sabina winced at the shattering glass and peeked around the corner as answering fire rang out from the cops. Bullets ripped through the battered Fords, turning steel into sieves. The men all ducked for cover.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sabina jolted when a drop of cool rain splashed onto her nose, followed by another and another. The skies unleashed a steady shower that did nothing to drown the thunder of gunfire. She rested a gloved hand on the brick wall at her side and took another step back, Papa\u2019s instructions ringing in her memory.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She had to get home, warn Mama and Little G. They would gather everything in the top drawer from the desk in Papa\u2019s office\u2014Mama had the key\u2014and flee to the basement. They were not to open the doors to anyone. They were to go into the hidden partition that Sabina had watched the builders install when she was thirteen, with Serafina perched on her hip, and wait. Papa would take the hidden exit out of his office and meet them there, but they\u2019d have to be ready to leave the moment he got home.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He had a series of rendezvous already laid out. All they had to do was get to the right one, and Papa\u2019s men would pick them up. They\u2019d get them out of Chicago until the heat was off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She knew the plan. She\u2019d recited the plan on Papa\u2019s knee, then from his side when she outgrew his lap. Home. Papers. Basement. Hide. Escape.<\/em> Words as familiar as the prayer that sprang by rote to her lips, even as her fingers sketched a hurried cross. \u201cOur Father, who art in heaven\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But she\u2019d never actually had to use<\/em> the plan. Certainly not while guns barked across the alleyway, surely aimed at Papa. \u201cHallowed be Thy name\u2026\u201d She spun around.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

There was no time to waste. She lurched forward\u2014and collided with a male chest. Strong hands gripped her arms, held her captive. She opened her mouth to scream.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSabina? What are you doing here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Relief left her limp. A prayer answered before she could even finish it\u2014that was new. She blinked against the rain and fell into the arms of the man she loved. \u201cRoman! You have to help. Papa\u2019s inside, and they\u2019re shooting at him, and\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI know.\u201d Roman Oliveri\u2019s reassuring smile lit hope in her heart as he moved his hands down to her elbows, halting her idiotic babble. Even through the steady rain, his eyes gleamed like emeralds and his teeth shone white as pearls. \u201cCome on.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He used his grip on her elbows to spin her around and guide her forward. Roman would help her get home, help her and Mama execute the plan. She let him tug her a few steps toward the fray\u2014but then reason kicked in. Why was he taking her toward<\/em> the gunfight? She dug in her heels and pulled against his grasp. \u201cRoman?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His fingers tightened. He gave her a yank, angling a hard, cold look down at her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Something heavy and terrifying eclipsed her heart\u2014something she hadn\u2019t felt since she pressed her shaking fingers to the fever burning up Serafina\u2019s forehead and heard the rattle in her chest. It wasn\u2019t just terror\u2014it was the absolute certainty that the world was about to come crashing down. \u201cRoman? What are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He didn\u2019t answer. Didn\u2019t even look at her, just tugged her so fiercely that she nearly tripped, pulling her toward the bullets singing out as they kissed pavement and brick. The acrid sting of gunpowder polluted the air.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Betsy abruptly fell silent when they came into view of the office window; the gunman must have seen her. One of the Prohibition boys shouted out a cease-fire, but they kept their weapons at the ready.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sabina stumbled along, dreadful certainty swallowing her whole. Ice. Numb.<\/em> She silently called for it, wishing it could douse the flames consuming her, but it was no use. She could still feel the terror with every stumbling step, every pulse of the veins under Roman\u2019s fingers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Roman was supposed to have been different. He was supposed to have loved her. He was supposed to have seen something in her, more than who her father was and what he owed him. He\u2019d said he did, he had. He\u2019d made her feel, for the first time in too long, like she was worthwhile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But now he was dragging her straight into the line of fire, straight toward the Bureau boys, his stride sure and fast. She could smell it now on the rain-heavy wind. Cop<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her stomach rebelled at the thought, but she couldn\u2019t deny it. Not when Roman, who had waltzed into her life six months ago and brought light back into it, stepped up beside the man who had been shouting and tugged the megaphone to his own lips. \u201cCome out, Manny, or your daughter dies!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Ice. Numb<\/em>. For three years she\u2019d been moving through the floes, training herself not to feel the things that would only crush her\u2014why did the ice abandon her now, when she needed it so dearly? But it wouldn\u2019t come. All that came was the burning, panicked dread. Sabina tried again to pull free, but Roman\u2019s fingers\u2014the fingers that had caressed her cheek two days ago\u2014dug in harder.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A sob wanted to rear up, but she had too much practice fending off tears. No<\/em>. Perhaps the ice wouldn\u2019t come, but she still had pride to fall back on. She lifted her chin, straightened her spine, and glared at him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The fair-haired man beside them shifted, clenched his jaw. \u201cRoman\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cShut up, Cliff.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Rain dripped down her face, crying for her. It soaked her new hat and dress, likely ruining them. She\u2019d bought them especially for her dinner with Roman tonight. Roman, who had actually looked at her like she was as beautiful as everyone said. Roman, who had kissed her like he wanted to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Roman, who thrust her forward now like some kind of sacrificial lamb, still keeping his grip on her elbows. \u201cGet down here, old man! If you love her as much as you say you do, come take her place!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRoman\u2026\u201d the man he\u2019d called Cliff said again, his voice heavy with warning as he mopped the moisture from his face. He flicked an uncertain gaze to Sabina. As if he cared about her, this blue-eyed stranger who screamed Cop!<\/em> with his every movement. No. He was only here to ruin her life, her family, all they\u2019d worked for. He was here to steal, like they all were.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Roman snarled. \u201cGive it a rest. Get ready to take him into custody when he comes down.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Finally, that blessed ice drifted over her\u2014first her limbs, then her body, and finally her very soul. But it didn\u2019t feel comforting anymore. It didn\u2019t insulate her from the pain; it only trapped it inside her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This was her fault\u2014all <\/em>her fault. Papa\u2026and what would Mama say, and Little G? All the lieutenants and cousins and uncles? The Mancari operation was their world\u2014how they survived, how they fed their children. With Papa pinched, they would all<\/em> suffer. All because she\u2019d trusted Roman Oliveri\u2014because she\u2019d dared to believe that he could actually love her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Her eyes burned, but she forced herself to look to the door of the building. She knew what she\u2019d see in another moment. Her father wouldn\u2019t have had time to escape yet, so he would come down and give himself up for her. Because he<\/em> loved her. But this stranger, this monster beside her\u2026 How could she possibly have let herself be used to ruin her own family?<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As if sensing her thoughts, Roman looked down at her. His gaze, though softer than a moment before, had never been so cool in their half-year acquaintance. \u201cLook, Sabina, I\u2019m sorry you got dragged into this. You weren\u2019t supposed to be here today.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s all you have to say to me?\u201d The words burned her tongue as she spat them, flint and spark and fire that melted her hard-won ice from the inside. \u201cI shouldn\u2019t have been here today<\/em>? After six months of lying to me, using me\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSabina\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She had no intention of stopping there. But the front door of the building opened, and her father walked out with his hands held above his head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She hadn\u2019t cried in three years, not since the day of Serafina\u2019s funeral. Not since she leaned one last time to press her lips to that precious little cheek and realized that her sweet little sister, the girl she\u2019d given so many years to raising and loving, was gone forever. But a sob heaved its way up now, her tears finally mixing with heaven\u2019s. \u201cPapa!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Giorgio Mancari should not have come to this.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

He walked straight toward her and Roman, his chin up and eyes steady. None of the other agents made a move to stop him. Given the gold and gems sparkling on their hands\u2014treasures no one could purchase on a Prohibition agent\u2019s salary\u2014she wasn\u2019t surprised.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGet your hands off my daughter.\u201d His words were a low growl.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Roman obeyed with a smirk. \u201cOf course. She\u2019s free to go, so long as you show yourself into the car without a fuss.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Papa shook his head. \u201cYou\u2019re a coward and a rat. After you ate at our table, after we gave you our trust, you would do this to us?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sabina forced a swallow as guilt ate away at her stomach. Papa never would have looked twice at this newcomer if she hadn\u2019t asked him to give Roman a chance. She<\/em> was the one who had trusted him. She was the one who had been duped. Her father\u2019s only mistake had been to trust her<\/em> judgment.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Roman\u2019s chin went up, his dark, damp hair sticking to his forehead. \u201cI was doing my job.\u201d His gaze drifted down to Sabina. \u201cI don\u2019t expect you to understand that. I never wanted to hurt you, Sabina, but you can\u2019t be the daughter of a mafioso and go through life unscathed.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Unscathed?<\/em> Her hand slapped his cheek before she was aware of commanding it to do so. The man called Cliff choked on a laugh. Despite the rain eager to lash her face, she rolled back her shoulders and narrowed her eyes. \u201cNeither can a man who would tell a woman he loves her for the sole purpose of using her.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She looked at her father, and his eyes were sad and old. He, too, knew this was all her fault. His darling principessa<\/em> had just brought his kingdom tumbling down. The quaking started somewhere deep inside her and made its way to her limbs.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She had to fix this somehow. Unfortunately, only one recourse sprang to mind. \u201cWe\u2019ll have you out by the weekend, Papa. I\u2019ll call Enzo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot Enzo.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She wanted to agree, to take the out he was clearly offering. But as much as she didn\u2019t want to talk to Lorenzo Capecce right now, he was<\/em> a lawyer. A criminal attorney, even. It didn\u2019t matter that he\u2019d only just passed the bar\u2014he was in a prestigious firm now. He\u2019d know what to do, or at least who else to turn to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Papa, the family, was worth it\u2014worth looking into Lorenzo\u2019s cool eyes, worth all the questions, all the uncertainties that would plague her. Worth all the shame eating her up at the very thought of him. \u201cI\u2019m calling him.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Papa sighed as Roman let go of Sabina\u2019s arm and reached for his instead. \u201cOh, principessa<\/em>.\u201d He didn\u2019t say more. But she could hear his unspoken words, and they rang louder than the gunfire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She should have called Lorenzo long ago.<\/p>\n\n\n