Code of Honor

by Missy Johnson

  Code of Honor is a work of fiction. Names, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  A Loveswept eBook Original

  Copyright © 2015 by Missy Johnson

  Excerpt from Breaking Noah by Missy Johnson and Ashley Suzanne copyright © 2015 by Michelle Johnson and Ashley Smith

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Loveswept, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC, New York.

  LOVESWEPT is a registered trademark and the LOVESWEPT colophon is a trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.

  This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming book Breaking Noah by Missy Johnson and Ashley Suzanne. This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition.

  eBook ISBN 9781101886472

  Cover design: Derek Walls

  Cover photograph: © Viorel Sima/Shutterstock

  readloveswept.com

  v4.1

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  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter 1: Lucy

  Chapter 2: Pietro

  Chapter 3: Lucy

  Chapter 4: Pietro

  Chapter 5: Pietro

  Chapter 6: Lucy

  Chapter 7: Lucy

  Chapter 8: Pietro

  Chapter 9: Pietro

  Chapter 10: Lucy

  Chapter 11: Pietro

  Chapter 12: Lucy

  Chapter 13: Pietro

  Chapter 14: Lucy

  Chapter 15: Pietro

  Chapter 16: Lucy

  Chapter 17: Pietro

  Chapter 18: Lucy

  Chapter 19: Pietro

  Chapter 20: Lucy

  Chapter 21: Pietro

  Chapter 22: Lucy

  Chapter 23: Pietro

  Chapter 24: Lucy

  Chapter 25: Pietro

  Chapter 26: Lucy

  Chapter 27: Pietro

  Chapter 28: Pietro

  Chapter 29: Lucy

  Chapter 30: Pietro

  Chapter 31: Lucia

  By Missy Johnson

  About the Author

  The Editor’s Corner

  Excerpt from Breaking Noah

  Prologue

  “I think you’ll like it here,” Giovanni says, offering me a smile. I force myself to smile back and then continue staring out the car window, watching the trees race by.

  Every interaction I have feels so forced. I’m an empty shell, dead inside, incapable of feeling anything but anger. I try my hardest to be engaging, but all I want to do is curl up in a ball and forget everything because I know that nothing will be the same ever again.

  How could I possibly enjoy living anywhere?

  My parents are dead. I have no family, and I’m alone in a new country, so far away from everything I know. I’ll never see my friends again or wake up in the house that holds so many memories from my childhood. I should feel grateful that there was someone willing to take me in after all that’s happened, but I don’t. Instead I resent him for taking me back with him. Giovanni means well, but how can he possibly replace all I’ve lost?

  —

  It’s been nine days since my world collapsed. Exactly 214 hours since I lost everything. I remember every tiny detail about that day. I remember leaving the house that morning to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. My mother was already up and preparing a feast for supper that night. We were going to be celebrating, but they wouldn’t tell me what, and, as it turned out, I’d never know.

  I remember joking with my father along the way to school about how I’d soon be old enough to do more in the family business. I remember arriving home just like every other day, only this time I was fifteen minutes later than usual after stopping off to buy a comic.

  It turns out that fifteen minutes probably saved my life.

  As I walked toward my house, I noticed a strange car parked in our driveway. Then I heard the shouting. Right away, I knew something wasn’t right. My mother’s voice rang out, terrified. I’ll never forget that sound as long as I live. Thinking fast, I’d crept up the side of the house to peer through the window, and what I saw will haunt me forever.

  The sound of the bullet firing through the air ripped through my soul. I watched helplessly as my mother fell to the ground in a heap, blood pooling around her lifeless body. Her head was twisted, her eyes staring at me; only I could see it was too late.

  She was gone.

  I’d screamed, and for a split second, the killer’s steely brown eyes met mine before he ran out the front door and sped away in his car. I panicked and ran inside, where I found my father surrounded by blood in the hallway.

  “Pietro?”

  My attention snaps back to Giovanni, his voice pulling me out of my memories. My heart pounds as I try to focus on where we are. We’re parked in front of a sprawling mansion, bigger than any home I’ve seen before. I fixate on his kind gray eyes, trying to will myself to be strong, because men don’t cry. I’m fifteen now. I’m a man. And all I can think about is how disappointed my father would be if he saw me crying.

  “This is where you live?” I mumble, pretending to care.

  “This is where we live,” Giovanni corrects me. He sighs and reaches for his seatbelt, unclasping it. “Right now it may not feel like it, but you’re not alone, Pietro. I told your father many years ago that I would take care of you and I meant it. This is your home now. My family is your family.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate it,” I say, the words sticking in my throat. I stare down at my hands in my lap, wishing I didn’t have to put on this front. I want to yell and scream, show the world how angry I am, but instead I hold it all in.

  “Your father was a good man,” he adds, his expression solemn.

  I find that hard to believe.

  I knew little of what my father did, only that he had many enemies and many of his ventures were illegal in one way or another. Just like all the men in my family he’d been strongly involved with the Italian Mafia. I was too young to fully understand what that meant, only that it nearly always ended in death. What did that mean for me? Was I expected to try to carry on the Gustovi name? To imprint myself in my father’s world? I glance back at Giovanni. Can he tell how afraid of my future I am?

  We get out of the car and I follow him inside, glancing around the huge entrance. Beautiful high ceilings and expensive décor catch my attention. It reminds me of a museum I visited the previous year for school. I shuffle my feet, almost scared to move, in case I mess something up.

  My eyes dart toward a huge spiral staircase when I hear a feminine voice sing out. A young girl, maybe a year or two younger than me, floats down the stairs, her long dark hair hanging in waves behind her. She’s beautiful. Her flawless, silky skin radiates warmth and highlights her beaming smile.

  “Daddy, I missed you,” she says, wrapping her arms around Giovanni. He laughs and lifts her up, planting a kiss on each of her cheeks. I find myself smiling at them, but inside I’m jealous of how close they are. I used to be close like that with my parents.

  “And you must be Pietro,” she gushes, her bright eyes smiling. I’m taken aback by her warmth. She steps closer and throws her arms around my neck. I step back, both surprised by her attention and embarrassed at how my body reacts to her close proximity. I’m a fifteen-year-old boy and she’s beautiful. How could my body not react?

  “Pietro, this is my daughter, Lucia.” Giovanni beams, and I realize he has the same wide smile as his daughter. He leans over and touches her face. “She’s been looking forward to
meeting you.”

  “I have,” she admits, her eyes lighting up. Her enthusiasm is infectious and I find myself smiling back. “Father doesn’t approve of most of my friends, so as you can probably tell, I’m very bored.”

  “Lucia, we talked about this,” Giovanni mumbles. “When you can show me your friends are responsible enough not to go out all night drinking and taking drugs I’m more than happy to let you see them.”

  “One time, Father. They were caught drinking one time!” I grin as she throws her hands up in frustration like a true Italian. I’m drawn to her fire and her passion. “Besides, I have seen some of your friends knock back a few drinks,” she grumbles.

  “Last time I checked, my friends are not underage,” he fires back. He raises his eyebrows, suggesting that is the end of the conversation. Lucia shuts her mouth, her eyes narrowing as she shakes her head dramatically. Giovanni turns to me and pats me on the back. “Let me show you to your room, Pietro. I’m sure you must be tired after your long flight.”

  “That would be good,” I say, throwing another glance at Lucia. “I could probably do with a nap.”

  He takes my suitcase and starts up the stairs. I hurry to follow him, not wanting to make him wait. It’s like a light switch has been flicked in my head and I’m beginning to realize how lucky I am. Fifteen minutes earlier that horrible day and things could’ve turned out so differently. I wouldn’t be standing here, with a second chance at living my life.

  But none of this changes the fact that someone took my parents from me. They’re gone and nobody other than me seems to care about finding who did this, not even the police. I thought of all people, Giovanni would be someone I could count on. Maybe he is, maybe he isn’t.

  Someone will be held responsible.

  I don’t care how long it takes me, I will find out who did this.

  And when I do, I’ll make them pay.

  Chapter 1

  Lucy

  EIGHT YEARS LATER

  I can’t believe I’m doing this.

  My hands shake as I sit down on the floor and begin my stretches. I glance around, taking in the hundreds of girls who are here for the same reason as I am. To follow their dreams and perform with one of the top ballet companies in the world. This is every little girl’s dream.

  Who am I kidding? I don’t even know why I’m here.

  Wait, yes I do. I was unwittingly roped into coming here by my supposed best friend and my number one fan, Bella. If I trip over my clumsy feet and make a fool of myself, I’ll never forgive her.

  When I found out she’d filled out the application on my behalf I’d been so annoyed that I refused to speak to her for days, but now sitting here, about to perform, I’m thankful that she believed in me that much.

  Since I was a child, the only constant in my life has been my dancing. It sheltered me from the pain of watching my mother succumb to cancer. It gave me hope when all felt lost. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else with my life but at the same time I was plagued with self-doubt. I was constantly comparing myself to others, always convinced I’d never be good enough.

  “Luce, if you don’t try, how do you know what you’re capable of?” Bella had said after I’d received notification of my audition date. I’d screamed at her for applying on my behalf, but what she was saying made sense. If I wanted to do this, I needed to know I could. How could I expect others to believe in me if I didn’t believe in myself?

  “Lucia Spontagio?”

  My heart jumps as I get to my feet. I run my hands down over my smooth tights, trying to focus only on getting inside that room. I walk in and smile at the line of officials. Some I recognize as well-known choreographers and dancers, some I don’t know at all.

  “When you’re ready.”

  I nod and position myself in the center of the room. I’ve been to auditions before, but none this important. The next few minutes had the ability to completely change the course of my life. No pressure, right?

  Just dance like you’re the only one in the room.

  I knew my chances of being accepted into this company were extremely low, no matter how outstanding my results were from college, or how many local productions I’d excelled in, and for a brief moment I want to kill Bella for setting me up for what was bound to be the ultimate failure.

  If you keep thinking like that you don’t deserve a place.

  Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and begin to dance as the soft notes of Bach fill my head. I forget where I am, and just like that, I’m back dancing in the studio my father built for me after I begged him for somewhere to dance.

  Every day and every night I’d spend hours practicing in my studio, with the help of one of the best instructors in Chicago. Who said money couldn’t buy happiness? If there was one thing my father was good at, it was ensuring his little girl had everything she wanted.

  —

  “Miss Spontagio. Thank you.”

  I open my eyes, surprised to have been cut short. That’s it? All my hard work and determination had been cut down to a mere eighty-six seconds? How could they possibly have seen my capabilities from that?

  My eyes drop and I nod, sure my dream is over. As I walk over to my things, I’m already consoling myself over not getting in. I try not to focus on the cold silence in the room as I gather my bags. Finally, I’m ready to leave. I throw a smile at the panel over my shoulder as I exit the studio, just as the next girl enters, a hopeful smile on her face.

  Outside, the reality of what just happened hits me. Holy shit, I just auditioned for the New York Ballet Company. Even if I don’t progress any further, the chance to be able to dance behind those walls had been pure perfection.

  I’m still dazed as I glance down at my phone and realize I have ten minutes until my bus for the airport leaves. Breaking into a sprint, I rush through the crowds of people heading toward Grand Central Station, where I have only a few minutes to catch my bus.

  I make it with only seconds to spare, stepping onto the bus just as the doors begin to close. The bus is nearly empty, with only an elderly couple occupying seats up near the front.

  I choose a seat and sit down, crossing my left leg over my right. I take my phone out of my bag and stuff the bag between my feet and the wall of the bus before slinking back in the seat and closing my eyes. Shivering, I reach down and retrieve my gloves, sliding them onto my hands. Even though spring has officially started, the weather remains unpredictable and, at the moment, cold.

  My mind replays the audition on a loop. I keep going over things I could’ve done better. I jump as my phone vibrates in my lap. Picking it up, I see that it’s my father. Wincing, I let it ring out, then switch it over to silent. I hate lying to him, but there was no way he would’ve let me go to the audition if I’d asked. I might be twenty-one, but in his eyes, I’ll always be his helpless little girl.

  He’s always been overprotective, but things got worse after Mom died. The pain of losing her and not being able to protect her made him anxious about my safety. I couldn’t even walk to school or go shopping with friends without a mountain of security tagging along behind me. It’s only the last year or so that he’s allowed me to go out with Bella without an entourage, though I’m sure he still has them follow me. Thank God for my trust fund that I’d had access to since I turned eighteen. I’d been transferring small, unnoticeable amounts over to another bank account over the last three years, building myself up a nice little nest egg that my father had no idea about. I knew my father well enough to know he probably scrutinized my bank statements for any suspicious purchases. This way I had access to money that he couldn’t trace—which was perfect for secret phone accounts and trips to New York.

  My flight home is uneventful, and on time. Bella waits for me in the parking lot at the airport in Chicago. I cross the street and walk over to her, sliding into the front seat of her cramped red sports car. Not one for practicality, that’s Bella to a T, and I’m constantly making fun of her ability to choose the wor
ld’s most impractical car. She smiles at me, her eyes wide with anticipation as she waits for me to spill details on my day. When all I offer her is a smirk, she reaches over and punches my arm. I laugh, rubbing it.

  “Tell me how it went,” she exclaims, her lips forming a pout. “I never hold out on you.”

  “It was okay.” I laugh. “And for the record, your stories always have way too much information. I’d appreciate you holding back occasionally.”

  “Lucia Spontagio, you have to give me more than ‘It was okay,’ ” she mimics, her pretty face screwing up into a frown. “And we’ve been friends for ten years. Now you decide I share too much?”

  “It went okay,” I repeat, not sure what else to say. “I danced. They thanked me, and then I left. That was it.”

  “That’s it?” she repeats, a frown on her lips.

  “What were you excepting, them to run after me, begging me to join their company?” I laugh.

  “Well, kinda. Yeah.” She shrugs, and then starts the car, pulling out onto the street with little regard for other drivers. I hold on to my seat as she goes flying around a corner without signaling. “So, what’s the plan if you actually get accepted?” Bella asks, throwing me a look.

  “I’m not going to get in,” I say, then laugh. I rest my head against the window and sigh. I know what she’s getting at. Even if I were lucky enough to be accepted, there was no way in hell my father would let me move so far away from him.

  “You’re an adult, Luce. Remember that. You need to decide what’s right for you and not take no for an answer. Your dad has kept you sheltered for way too long. He won’t even let you go to parties, for God’s sake.”