I was just eighteen when my father became the underboss to the Vicci crime family. Anthony Rizzuto was a name every capo feared in the organization, and rightfully so. He’d earned his place at the top when Salvatore Mangano stepped into the Consigliere role. I was a soldier under my father when he was Capo, and for four years, I learned how to be ruthless. I killed for the family when it was needed, and Francesco Vicci knew I was loyal.

On my twenty-second birthday, Mr. Vicci requested my presence. At the time, I couldn’t have imagined that he would bestow such an amazing honor on me. “Angelo, my boy.” His voice was deep and booming. “You’ve proven to the family that your loyalty knows no bounds.” His hand clasped my shoulder as he walked past me to take the seat to my left. “I’ve got a job for you, son. It is the most important job that I would ask of anyone. Do you want to know what it is before you accept or decline?”

I knew better than to ask questions. When Francesco Vicci calls you in personally to tell you he has a job that he only trusts to you, you don’t question it; you accept it and be damn proud that a man like him trusts you. “No, sir, you don’t have to explain whatever it is. I’m your man.”

Francesco stood and moved around his desk, where he took a seat in his chair, reclining back slightly. His dark, black eyes stared straight into mine, almost making me a bit frightened about what he was going to ask of me. “Angelo, my daughter, Lillian, is at that age when she’s getting to be too big for her own britches. You, my son, will watch over her from here on out.” Francesco’s eyes narrowed at me “With your life. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Vicci, I understand. I’m honored that you believe in me. With my life, sir, I will protect Lillian.”

“Eccellente, now go enjoy your last night of freedom. Starting tomorrow, you will be available to Lillian twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I will have the housekeeper make up a room for you across the hall from Lillian’s. She is your ward now. Go.” And just like that, with a whisk of his hand, I was excused.

My first week with Lillian was less than pleasant. That girl was a handful, just as her father had said she would be. If I said the sky was blue, she’d argue that it was red. When I would tell her to wait for me at the door, she would push right through it. The two of us were going to have to find common ground if I was going to keep her safe.

On her twelfth birthday, she stood before me, her tiny hands on her hips, and declared she didn’t need me as a babysitter. “I’m sick of you, Angelo,” she barked loudly at me with an angry scowl on her face that would have had me shaking in my shoes if I hadn’t been ten years her senior and one hell of a badass myself. I knew then my life was going to be turned upside down, and it did in more ways than I could have imagined.

I’d lay my life down for hers, and trust me, there were several times when it almost came to that. Being the daughter and sole heir to Francesco Vicci made Lillian a prime target of his enemies, but there was no way in hell she’d die while being my ward.

In the four years that led up to her sixteenth birthday, Lillian was not only my ward, but I became one of her closest confidants. It was hell keeping her little secrets from her father, but they were mere teenage pranks that she and Ashlynn got into. I remember the night of her birthday clear as day. I stood off into the dark, watching her. All the families were present to help celebrate the young girl turning into a young woman. I didn’t hear her sneak up on me until her voice became a whisper in the air, floating to my ears.

“Aren’t you going to wish me a happy birthday, Angelo?” The twinkle in her eyes warmed my heart.

“Happy Birthday, piccolo ragazza.” I knew she hated when I called her little girl. It made her crazy because in her eyes, she was a woman.

“Ah, come on, Angelo. You know you want to kiss me. Just one little kiss, please.” She was pushing my buttons, and she knew it. Her index finger twisted a piece of her mahogany locks in circles as she winked at me.

I leaned down and kissed the side of her cheek. “Like I said, Happy Birthday, piccolo ragazza.”

Over the last four years, Lillian had developed feelings for me, and at first, it was adorable. But now, as she’d matured, I knew she needed to stop because I could only be tortured so far before I broke.

It was the night before Lillian’s eighteenth birthday. She stood before me in nothing but a wife beater and a tiny pair of shorts. I’ve loved her from the moment she became my responsibility, but I couldn’t pinpoint the exact day when I fell in love with her. I knew on her sixteenth birthday that I was in trouble when she asked me for that kiss. I knew she wouldn’t let me do my job without pushing her way into my heart, but as much as I fought it, it still happened. Tonight, though, my traitorous body realized just how much she’d matured.

“I’m going to be eighteen tomorrow, Angelo. You know what that means, right? I’m going to be a woman. I want you to be my first.”

Holy fucking shit. I’d managed to keep her at arm’s length every time she’s flirted with me over the last two years and implied that she wanted more, but never had I ever expected her to say those words to me. As much as I’d love to lean down and kiss those pouty, perfect lips, I knew that could never happen; she was too young for me, and our families would kill me for even having the thoughts I’m thinking right now. GOD, help my soul that I can survive Lillian Olivia Vicci.