I hadn’t noticed he carried something curled in his large fist. Opening his hand, a pool of silver chain lay on his palm, the Eiffel Tower charm in the middle.
“You had it fixed?” I had no idea he’d taken it to a jeweler. I’d been too busy with the trip to mess with it myself.
He lifted the chain and worked the clasp. “I told you I’d give you both—Paris and your necklace. I’m a man of my word.”
Once he put the necklace on me, I turned around and threw my arms around his neck. “Thank you, baby. I love you so much.”
“Love you, Ladybug.”
I lifted my legs around his waist and pressed my core against him.
“I thought you said we were in a hurry,” he murmured against my lips.
I nipped at his bottom lip and smiled. “Five minutes won’t kill anybody.”
An hour later, I texted Alessia to let her know we’d finally arrived—better late than never. We weaved our way through the enormous crowd as I steered us over to where Alessia and Luca were seated by a gorgeous pool.
“Sofia!” she squealed as soon as she spotted us. “How was the trip? It’s so good to see you.” She engulfed me in a warm hug.
“It was absolutely amazing, and … well … this happened.” I lifted my left hand to show her the stunning engagement ring Nico had given me at the Eiffel Tower. It was somewhat cliché, but for us, the monument had so much meaning that it was perfect.
“Oh my God! Luca, look! Sof got engaged! Oh, Sofia, it’s gorgeous.” My big sister was appropriately mushy, oohing and aahing over my ring and our engagement story. Luca gave Nico a bro handshake-hug combination as they talked between themselves.
“We haven’t heard much since we were out of the country. Any news on Sal?” I asked Alessia, keeping my voice down.
“Not that I’ve heard. We figure he found a way out of the country, but they’re still looking.”
Just thinking about the man made me want to hit something. “I figured if he’d been found, someone would have gotten word to us. Just wanted to double-check. I’m not letting that piece of shit ruin our day. Tell me what else I’ve missed while we were away.”
Just as she opened her mouth, a loud thumping sounded over a microphone. “Excuse me, everyone,” a deep, masculine voice said.
We turned to look for the source and found a heavily tattooed man standing by the house along with my father and several others.
“I want to welcome you to my home,” the man said, and everyone began to clap.
“That’s Matteo De Luca,” Alessia whispered to me. “He’s the one who rescued me from that monster who hurt me. He’s the underboss of the Gallo family.”
The Gallos. They were the ones who had been behind my brother’s death. My father stood next to Matteo as though all had been forgiven, but I wasn’t sure I felt the same. I’d lived my whole life thinking of them as the enemy.
“It’s been many years since we’ve had a gathering of this size,” he continued. “And it’s our hope that it will become a tradition again. We are all stronger united in friendship than when we are at each other’s throats. All of us should do our part to help align ourselves in this new movement toward harmony. It is in that vein that I would like to announce my engagement to the stunning Maria Genovese.” He held out his hand, and to my utter astonishment, Maria stepped forward and placed her hand in his as the crowd erupted in cheers.
My jaw hanging open, I turned to Alessia, who looked just as shocked. We gaped at one another, unable to say a word.
“Thank you, thank you. We hope to ring in a new era of prosperity and peace among us all. Please, enjoy the party and thank you again for coming.” Matteo waved to the crowd with a broad smile, but I didn’t miss how Maria slipped her hand from his the moment his speech was over.
This was going to be interesting.
Don’t miss Forever Lies, the first book of The Five Families Series!
Get it HERE!
A NOTE FROM JILL
Sofia and Nico came to life for me as I was writing this story. My heart bled for them as their heartbreaking journey unfolded, and I hope you were able to experience the same joy and grief over their tumultuous relationship and traumatic pasts.
I’d like to offer a sincere thank you for purchasing Never Truth. If you enjoyed reading the book as much as I enjoyed writing it, please take a moment to leave a review. Leaving a review is the easiest way to say Thank You to an author. Reviews do not need to be long or involved, just a sentence or two that tells people what you liked about the book in order to help readers know why they might like it too.
In The Five Families Series
Forever Lies
Five minutes in a stalled elevator was all it took to turn Alessia Genovese’s world upside down. She was just one among millions of New Yorkers, but now, she’s landed on Luca Romano’s radar, and he isn’t about to let her walk away. Dragging her into his world of lies and deceit, Luca’s secret agenda shatters Alessia’s perfectly crafted life. Sometimes lies are easier than the truth …
Learn More about Forever Lies
Never Truth
Throughout my childhood, Nico Conti was the center of my universe. He was the air I breathed and the reason for each of my smiles—until he shattered my heart, leaving me broken and alone. For ten years, I had to find my way in the dark. Now he’s come back, trying to explain away his absence and pick up where we left off, but I’m not the same girl he abandoned. I have enough secrets to rival his own, and if I’m not careful, he’s going to unravel every one of them.
Learn More about Never Truth
In The Fae Games Series
Shadow Play
Alluring strangers and deadly secrets make the streets of Belfast a living nightmare. Newly arrived from America, Rebecca Peterson must stay alive long enough to learn about this deadly Fae world and discover why she’s been drawn into its clutches.
Learn More about Shadow Play
Twilight Siege
After her carefree world is ripped apart, Rebecca must accept her new life and the dark powers that come with it. She looks to Lochlan for help, but the sweltering tension between them is a dangerous distraction. Deep into the treacherous Shadow Lands, both her knowledge and courage will be tested. To keep those she loves safe, Becca is willing to risk it all.
Learn More about Twilight Siege
Shades of Betrayal
Ashley’s out to stop a monster from killing young women in the heart of Belfast. Michael will do anything it takes to stop her from getting the answers she seeks. Together, their explosive chemistry laced with deadly Fae secrets may be a recipe for disaster. Can they unite to find a killer, or will their fiery passion blaze out of control?
Learn More about Shades of Betrayal
Born of Nothing
A druid woman and a Fae man—Cat and Fenodree are two people from different worlds—only by chance do their paths happen to cross. What develops between them is tender and intimate … and totally forbidden. Cat’s Druid family fear and hate the Fae. Running becomes her only choice, but what will happen if she doesn’t make it out in time?
Learn More about Born of Nothing
Midnight’s End
Villainess, Morgan Le Fay, teams up with a sworn enemy to help her acquire the illusive Cauldron of Dagda. In this thrilling finale to The Fae Games Series, Jill Ramsower ties together the four previous books in a romantic adventure full of jaw-dropping twists and heart-stopping heroics you won’t want to miss!
Learn More about Midnight’s End
Acknowledgements
This time around, I have two groups I want to thank. First, a heartfelt thank you to my reader supporters who have gone above and beyond the call of duty. Kaitlyn, Kristi, Leah, Sonya, and Elizabeth are at the top of that list. You didn’t know me from Adam but jumped on my bandwagon and have been invaluable helping me spread the word about my books (and some of you even help me craft the stories themselves). Your encouragement, friendship,
and support have been priceless to me!
Secondly, I want to offer my humble gratitude to a number of crazy generous authors who have taken me under their wing and helped guide me through my author infancy. Amelia Hutchins held my hand when I was utterly clueless and has been there with answers to every banal question I could send her. Jennifer Bene, aside from being delightfully hilarious and unerringly sweet, imparted a wealth of next-level information to help me get my books in the hands of readers. Cora Reilly, Ashleigh Zavarelli, and Natasha Knight welcomed me into the world of mafia romance when I decided to branch out from my urban fantasy roots. I feel incredibly blessed to work with you ladies. Thank you for your time, knowledge, kindness, patience, and most of all, your friendship.
About the Author
Jill Ramsower is a life-long Texan—born in Houston, raised in Austin, and currently residing in West Texas. She attended Baylor University and subsequently Baylor Law School to obtain her BA and JD degrees. She spent the next fourteen years practicing law and raising her three children until one fateful day, she strayed from the well-trod path she had been walking and sat down to write a book. An addict with a pen, she set to writing like a woman possessed and discovered that telling stories is her passion in life.
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Interested in exploring more of Jill’s work? Check out the steamy urban fantasy readers are calling “…dark, somewhat disturbing, but utterly enjoyable.” (Booklife Prize)
Shadow Play
By
Jill Ramsower
Available on all platforms, here’s a taste of the Rebecca and her harrowing adventure …
Preface
I was going to kill him, and I didn’t care if I died in the process.
It would be worth it.
In that moment, standing naked across the room from the only person I’d ever hated in my entire life, I didn’t care about anything but his death.
The word ‘hate’ wasn’t even sufficient to encompass my feelings toward the man. What I felt was pure, unadulterated loathing. There was no question or uncertainty—no conditions or exceptions. I abhorred everything about him.
I never would have thought myself capable of hatred or murder, but that was before him. Before his lies and deceit. Before he took everything from me. Life could never go back to the way it was. I could never go back to the way I was.
Before Ireland.
Before him.
The act of killing would cause irreparable damage to my soul, but if ever there was someone worth the trauma, it was him. He needed to die, and it was only right that it be done by my hands. My chances of succeeding were slim to none. The most likely outcome would be my own death, but I couldn’t imagine a more worthy way of dying—attempting to rid the world of his toxic existence.
His back turned to me, and my muscles coiled with resolve, I launched my attack.
1
“Rebecca, order's up!” Joe hollered from the kitchen behind me.
I flashed my gritted teeth in a look that was probably more creepy-carnie than patient waitress, as my customer changed his mind for the third time. I wanted to scream at him that it was lunch, not solving the national debt. I had started my day by opening a letter from my landlord announcing a rent increase, and things had only gotten worse from there. I dropped my phone on the way to work and shattered the screen, and as if that hadn’t been enough, I was currently in the middle of waiting tables during a particularly busy lunch rush.
“What did you say the special was?” the overweight man with grease stains on his shirt asked casually, oblivious to my rising frustration.
“Meatloaf—how about I check back with you in just a minute?” I started to step toward the next table where a customer sat with an empty glass, eyeing me for the past ten minutes.
“No, no, I've got it. How about the Ruben—I'll have that with some fries. Do you guys have Coke? I hate that RC Cola, just not the same.”
“Pepsi, actually.”
“Ugh, why's it so hard to get a Coke in this damn city? Just bring me a water.”
I gave him a grimace and hurried to the thirsty man at table five, got the ticket for table two, and ran back to the kitchen to get the order Joe had signaled was ready.
“The fuck, Rebecca, food's getting cold,” Joe grumbled under his breath.
He was a third-generation Italian whose father had started the small diner twenty years earlier. He had a strong New York accent and a receding hairline but was otherwise not totally unattractive. More importantly, he was decent to the waitresses. Days like these, though, we all got short tempered.
“I know Joe, doing my best.”
I loaded up a tray and carried it to table seven where two older couples sat with matching scowls. After I set each of their plates on the table, the man sitting closest to the window shook his head. “I knew it, this is cold. Feel it, it's cold now.” He fingered the pile of vegetables and picked up the chicken breast, waving it around in the air like silly putty in a child's hand. If it wasn't cold before, it certainly would be now.
I visualized taking his full glass of ice water and slowly pouring it over his balding head. I couldn’t follow through, but the thought was enough to bring a smile to my face. “I'm very sorry; let me send that back for you.”
“Don't just heat it up, it'll get rubbery,” he added as his companions dug into the food on their plates.
“Yes sir, I'll have a fresh plate prepared right away.” I took the offending dish back to Joe and explained the problem before racing back out to clean up a now empty table two.
Just looking at the booth weighed me down. Crayon markings on the table, food covering every square inch in sight, and a suspicious puddle on one of the benches. And for my troubles, a $1.50 tip.
A dollar fifty—who does that?
That's no way to treat another human being.
My despair morphed into anger. I took out my frustrations on the formica table and cushioned benches as I threw dishes into a tub and wiped down every surface, including the puddle with the tell-tale ammonia scent of urine.
I couldn't keep doing this. I had been in the city for two years, and I was getting nowhere—every day ate away more of my soul. At some point, I wouldn't recognize the girl I was anymore.
Doing my best not to scowl or snap at my customers, I finished out my shift. What I had wanted to do was take off my apron and walk out the door without looking back. For months I had thought more and more about my lack of progress finding a job using my art history degree. My attempts to make the best of my situation were soured by feelings of failure and unmet potential. I had an incessant itch to make a change in my life, and that impulse could no longer be ignored.
When people told me that I should have known better than to get a liberal arts degree, I always insisted that the arts were my passion. The joy I found in my studies outweighed my worry of finding a job after college. I was confident that if I gave my job search enough time, and was open minded about an entry level position, I would work my way up to becoming a museum curator or similar position in administration. What kind of museum I worked for was, for the most part, irrelevant. I wanted to be a part of the cultural world around me.
After my shift, I sat in the back office to wait for Joe. The office was grungy, smelled of grease, and was crowded with supply boxes and random crap that had been set down and forgotten. I perched myself on the only chair not stacked with papers and wondered why I had not forced myself to do this a long
time ago. When Joe finally walked in, I felt empowered and confident that I was making the right decision.
“Hey Becca, what're you doing in here?” Joe sat back in his scarred leather desk chair and riffled through stacks of papers.
“Joe, I'm giving my notice. It's time for me do something else.” Despite knowing I was doing the right thing, my voice came out soft because there was a part of me that felt bad for leaving.
He stopped what he was doing and let out a sigh. “Yeah, I knew this day would come. You're better than this place, Bec. You need to get a job with that fancy degree of yours.”
I gave Joe a warm smile. I should have known he’d be supportive. I had been working for him long enough to know he’d want the best for me. “Thanks, Joe. I'll give you two weeks; I'm not going to leave you hanging.”
“Good to know. Now get outta here and good luck on the job hunt.”
I gave him one more grin and left the diner holding my head high and determined to find a job that would be fulfilling. Branching out my search beyond New York would open up a myriad of options, and I was confident I would find success. Not only that, but for months I had found myself searching travel websites for deals and daydreaming about exploring new cities. I felt an inexplicable pull to pack my things and go, and it was growing stronger every day.
Normally, on my walk home I would have taken my time and enjoyed the unseasonably warm weather, but the adrenaline brought on by quitting my job without a new position lined up kept my steps quick and my mind racing. Making sure to avoid Angry Arnold, the homeless guy who lived outside my building, I ran upstairs to my third-floor apartment and booted up my laptop.
Never Truth Amazon Page 21