Machiavellian
Bella Di CorteI hungered to be seen.
There were three things I knew about Capo Macchiavello:
He was gorgeous.
He was reclusive.
He was considered one of New York’s most savage animals.
And he wanted me as his wife. A simple arrangement – you do for me, I do for you. Nothing owed, no expectations. Except for one: never leave.
Life was never that simple, though. By the age of twenty-one, I was parentless, jobless, and homeless, and I had come to learn the hard way that nothing was ever free. Even kindness comes with strings.
Capo might’ve been the only man to ever see me , but I had made a vow to myself: I would never owe anyone anything. Most of all, the man I called boss.
I killed to stay hidden.
Mariposa Flores thought she owed nothing to no one, but she owed everything…to me , the ghost the world had once called The Machiavellian Prince of New York.