Tá mo chroí istigh ionat – “My Heart Is In You” – Irish endearment of saying I love you Is tú mo stóirín – “You are my （little） sweetheart”
A stór – my treasure Acting the maggot – making a fool of themselves Dinger – a term of endearment reserved for the attractive Acushla – darling
Damnú – fuck
Tuig – understand
Spanish
Pinche puta – fucking whore, or fucking damned or fucking fool Está claro – is that clear Sí – yes
Por favor – please
Mis disculpas – my apologies Virgen de Guadalupe – Virgin of Guadalupe/Virgin Mary Lo siento – I’m sorry Perdóname – Forgive me Hermano – brother Hermana – sister Novio/el prometido – fiancé Te lo ruego – I beg you Ayúdame – help me
Cálmate – calm down Esposo – husband
Jódete – screw you/fuck you ?Vete al diablo! – go to hell Mierda – shit Joder. Tal vez incluso antes de eso – Fuck. Maybe even before that.
Cristo – Christ
Ni?o – baby
El hijo – son/baby
Peque?o – little one
Since the dawn of time, waging war on those who have wronged us has been embedded in the very fiber of mankind’s true nature. The thirst for vengeance and retribution has always prevailed over turning the other cheek to one’s enemies. Creating chaos and bloodshed is preferable to being subjected to vapid dialogues of peaceful negotiation.
None hold this way of life more sacred than made men.
Honor.
Loyalty.
Courage.
These are the codes of conduct of every mafia family.
However, the same cannot be said when dealing with their enemies.
Throughout recent decades, in the midst of civil evolution, an ancient war was being fought. From both sides of the globe, blood was spilled in the name of honor, while the brutal carnage each family bestowed upon the other was anything but noble. Soldiers, kin, and innocent lives were lost on all sides, and the inevitable extinction of the mafioso way of life was fast approaching.
In the most unlikely scenarios, six families came together in an undisclosed location to negotiate a peace treaty. As the leaders of the most influential crime families in the world, they recognized that a ceasefire was the only way to guarantee their endurance. Should this attempt fail, then their annihilation was all but imminent.
The treaty was effectively simple.
Each family would offer up one of their daughters as a sacrifice to their enemies. Marriage was the only way to ensure that the families wouldn’t retaliate against one another. It would also guarantee that the following successor’s bloodline would be forever changed, creating an alliance that would continue throughout generations to come.
Not all in attendance were happy with the arrangement.
The deep scars gained from years of plight and hatred can’t be so easily healed or erased. However, even the cynical and leery knew that this pact was their best chance of survival. Although the uncertainty of the treaty’s success was felt by every mob boss there, one by one, the families swore an oath that would bind them to it forever.
And as the words spilled from their lips and the scent of blood hung in the air, they made sure innocent lives would yet again be deemed collateral damage to their mafia wars—one last time.
Their daughters would have to pay the price of peace.
Whether they wanted to or not.
Prologue
Tiernan
Ten years ago
Fucking hurricane.
It’s a bad omen that the first time the most influential mafia families in the world come face to face with each other, it’s under such dire weather conditions. Who the fuck had the brilliant idea of meeting up in Bermuda during hurricane season anyway? I don’t care if this island is considered to be neutral ground. Saint Brendan himself wouldn’t have wanted to face such a storm.
The howling wind continues to bang furiously against the green shutters, threatening to bring the whole luxury hotel down with every ferocious pound to its walls, while the trembling windowpanes do their very best to keep from shattering completely and exposing us to the violent storm outside. How ironic that for all Mother Nature’s fury, it still can’t compare to the destruction made by every man sitting in this very room.
What is God’s wrath compared to the devastation we can conjure up when we put our minds to it, aye?
We’ve been killing each other for so long, I can’t recall a time when we weren’t at war with one family or another. Such a thing has never happened in my lifetime, at least, that’s for goddamn sure. Just because I can’t remember when our feuds began doesn’t mean that the memories of burnt flesh, dismembered bodies, and coffins being lowered into the ground with my friends inside them haunt me any less. Everyone here has lost more than just mere foot soldiers. We’ve lost friends, family, and loved ones all in the name of pride and honor.