Worth Every Bullet

After Stefan Grimaldi's first love died, he hated me for five years.

I did everything I could to please him, but he never softened. The only thing he ever said was, "If you really want to make me happy, go die. Go keep Sienna company in her grave."

It cut deep every time. I told myself it would always be this way, that he would carry that hatred until one of us was gone.

I was wrong.

When assassins came for us, Stefan stepped in front of the bullet without hesitation. He went down in my arms.

With the little breath he had left, he looked up at me and said, "Annie, if there's a next life, I hope I never meet you again."

At his funeral, his father stood over the casket, barely holding himself together.

"Stefan, I was wrong. I never should have forced you to marry Annie. If I had listened to you back then and let you marry Sienna, none of this would have happened," he said.

His mother turned on me, tears streaming, her eyes filled with blame. "This is all your fault. Every time, Stefan ended up in danger because of you. What have you ever given him besides disaster?"

I kept my head down and said nothing. They were not the only ones with regrets. I regretted marrying Stefan too.

On the night of the full moon, I climbed to the top of the church tower and jumped.

I woke five years in the past.

This time, I was done.

I opened my eyes to find Stefan Grimaldi standing in front of me. He wore a sharply cut black suit, his face carelessly handsome. "Annie Romano, you really are something. You got my parents to starve themselves just to force me into marrying you. What, you think a wedding ring will make me fall in love with you? Keep dreaming."

His manner and the way he spoke were nothing like the Stefan I would come to know five years later. This was Stefan at 20.

I crushed the ache rising in my chest and let myself look at him, just for a moment. I could not help it.

After a pause, I forced a smile, though it cost me. "You don't want to marry me because the person you actually want is Sienna Morelli. Am I right?"

Stefan let out a cold, humorless sound. "Sienna is the only person I have ever loved. What, are you giving up?"

"Yes," I said.

I meant it.

My parents had died in a gang war. Stefan's grandfather, Salvatore Grimaldi, the head of the Grimaldi family, had taken me in and kept me safe. In exchange, he signed an agreement with me.

What the Grimaldi family owed me would be repaid through marriage. But the same agreement could be used in reverse. It could buy anyone their freedom.

Stefan went still for half a second. Then something between anger and disbelief crossed his face, and he let