{"product_id":"brutal-legacy-isbn-9798217299683","title":"Brutal Legacy","description":"\u003cb\u003eAn ex-special forces mafia underboss. The woman who broke his heart. And an arranged marriage that could destroy them both . . . A fiery enemies-to-lovers romance from the author of \u003ci\u003eUnholy Vows\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe's not my wife . . . she's my hostage.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFourteen years ago, Georgia Bellisario ripped my heart out and left me for dead.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI should have died that day. Maybe I did.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe man I was—the one who loved, who felt—was buried in the dirt.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhat remained was a body, a machine built for war and violence.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI was reforged in blood, remade into something ruthless.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNow, I am the sottocapo of a brutal mafia, the perfect weapon at my boss’s command.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eMerciless. Heartless. Remorseless.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhen the boss orders me to hunt down Georgia and drag her back across the country, I don’t hesitate.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHer name alone is a curse, a toxin that burns through my veins.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe’s still my obsession, my weakness—the poison that never left my system.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI was the perfect weapon, until my boss announces her engagement—to another man.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThat’s when I decide: If Georgia Bellisario is destined for a wedding… it will be to me.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMila Kane's steamy Original Sin series can be read in any order:\u003cbr\u003eUNHOLY VOWS • BRUTAL LEGACY • SACRED RUIN\u003cb\u003eMila Kane \u003c\/b\u003eis a previously independent bestselling author. She is obsessed with cats, coffee, and anti-hero's on just the right side of insane. She writes dark and dirty romance with the alpha-holes of your most filthy nightmares. She only writes SAFE stories: and no matter how dark and twisted the story might be, there will always be a happily ever after guarantee. She was born and still lives in Scotland.\u003cb\u003e1\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eElio\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLa Seta was packed to the seams with Napoli’s most beautiful. Skin carefully revealed in titillating patches, perfumes meant to seduce, hair swinging and enticing, smiles tempting . . . \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut not to me. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI moved through the swaying mass of desperate, clawing people like a dark arrow through a cloud of cotton candy. I wasn’t here for fun. I was here for one purpose. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTo do my job. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAhead, my target was laughing at the bar, downing shot after shot, lowering his guard even more. Some people really made this easy. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI leaned against a nearby pillar and watched him in the mirror across the way. My biggest problem somewhere like this was blending in. I didn’t sway. I didn’t smile. It kind of made me stick out in a place where everyone else was riding a chemical high of some kind, be it drugs, alcohol, or pure endorphins. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eCiao, bello,\u003c\/i\u003e” a female voice purred beside me. A hand snaked down my chest. “I haven’t seen you here before.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI had her wrist in a tight grip before she saw me move. Her hazy, half-closed eyes widened in alarm. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“And you haven’t seen me this time,” I advised her quietly. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHer smile returned; she assumed I was flirting back. She leaned into me, and the manufactured scent of her perfume was harsh on my nose. Femininity in a bottle. I wished I could unsmell it. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Sure, I haven’t. Why don’t we get out of here and not see each other a little more?” she suggested. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI let go of her wrist. “I’m afraid that’s not in the cards. I’m not what you’re looking for.” \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You’re a man, aren’t you?” \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eDebatable.\u003c\/i\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Maybe so, but I don’t have the parts you want.” \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe pouted for a moment and then leaned in. A last-ditch attempt to seduce me. Her hand landed on my crotch, and she squeezed me through my dress pants. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You feel like you have everything I need.” \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThis time, I didn’t bother moving her hand. I simply dropped my mildly pleasant mask and let her see the man beneath. She stilled as my eyes drilled into hers, and she saw it all. The madness, the anger, the simmering violence only just contained. The monster without his man disguise. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe dropped her hand and stepped back. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“That isn’t the part I’m missing, \u003ci\u003esignorina\u003c\/i\u003e.” \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“What is it then?” she asked, muted now. “What are you missing?” \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI caught sight of my target leaving the bar ahead of me and stepped forward. My missing parts were far more vital than some appendage. My missing parts made me incapable of mercy, or gentleness . . . It had been that way for as long as I could remember.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eSince her.\u003c\/i\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A heart,” I told her curtly and stepped past her, intent on my target.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe was a De Sanctis made man. I’d also been a De Sanctis for the greater part of my life. Service to my capo and the \u003ci\u003efamiglia\u003c\/i\u003e had been my sole reason for living for the last decade. The family was rooted in Naples, though that grip was weakening gradually with the decline of Salvatore De Sanctis’s health. I lived in the second De Sanctis stronghold, New Jersey. My capo, Renato, Salvatore’s nephew, was visiting Italy with his new wife, and where they went, I went. I was his shadow, his right hand, and his personal executioner. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSince I owed him my and my sister’s lives, it was only fitting. One of the most satisfying parts of my job was rooting out corruption in the heart of the family. Death before disloyalty was a motto I lived by. I wasn’t a merciful man, but I conducted the bloody and violent business of being \u003ci\u003esottocapo\u003c\/i\u003e to a brutal Mafia as professionally as possible . . . But a traitor in the \u003ci\u003efamiglia\u003c\/i\u003e? They got special attention. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI enjoyed delivering them the consequences of their actions, and I was so very good at it. I was a natural-born killer and could never be anything else. I’d lived in hell and brought the demons back with me. I might as well use them in service of my family.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThere wouldn’t be any cameras in the restrooms; it was against the law. There was a handy CLEANING IN PROGRESS sign just around the corner from the bathroom. I waited a few moments before entering the room. I wanted my target to be midstream and not easily distracted. There was only one other man in there, and he took one look at me and left quickly. No, not everyone was a drunken idiot. He stepped around the cleaning sign, which I’d placed in the doorway, and took off. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy target was using a urinal. I waited until he finished and started to zip up, then slipped a garrote from my pocket. With a flash of explosive power, I had the wire around his neck before he could even realize there was someone else in the room. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe man struggled, his hands clawing at my face, but he was too drunk, and I was too strong for him. I pulled him against my body, bending backward so his entire weight hung from the wire around his neck. The crack was satisfying and clean. I dropped him to the floor and removed the garrote, washing it carefully in the sink. The whole thing had taken seconds, and there was always time to clean up your instruments. That was only one of the habits ingrained in me by my long years in the military. Precision. Clarity. Focus. I glanced in the mirror and wiped a streak of blood from my cheek. Emotionless. In that whirling storm inside, I lived in the silent eye. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eUntouchable. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI left the club, careful to keep my head down. As I strode away, turning this way and that down the warren-like streets, I found myself in Scampia, a neighborhood nestled in the heart of Napoli. I could have walked the whole way with my eyes closed. I grew up in that very neighborhood. A few streets down on the right was the house where my mother died. A little farther was the place where my sister was taken by the state and my father was arrested in the street, facedown like a dog on a rainy day. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI followed my target toward the back of the club. I had no worries about repercussions from the police. The Italian police were some of the most corrupt I’d ever met. I’d learned that lesson young. Let them chase their tails. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eMy mark had entered the men’s room. I stood outside and kept my face carefully angled away. I had a black baseball hat on and tinted glasses, as strange as it was to wear them in a dark club. Thankfully, enough Italians were fashion-conscious for me to get away with it as a normal outfit.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIf I were a man who could feel, then this walk down memory lane might be depressing. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eLuckily, I wasn’t. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eI didn’t feel much of anything at all. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJust the way I liked it.","brand":"Dell","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":48233004302565,"sku":"NP9798217299683","price":20.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9798217299683.jpg?v=1767723126","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/es\/products\/brutal-legacy-isbn-9798217299683","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}