Synopsis
No war is won without a few bloodstains.
Tommas Rossi wants what belongs to him—he wants it bad. At
thirty-years-old, he’s on course to become the youngest boss in the Chicago
Outfit’s history. He just has to make it to the end alive. But being the boss
of the Outfit means nothing to Tommas if a certain blue-eyed girl isn’t
standing with him when the city finally crumbles. The crown is so close he can
taste it. Blood paves his way. Every king needs a queen, but he doesn’t know
how to get his anymore.
Abriella Trentini has always been the rebel. She’s quicker
than most men, dangerous when she wants something, and more careful than anyone
knows. Her relationship with Tommas Rossi has been a dangerous game she loved
to play, but someone always has to lose. With choices to make, the kind that
determines who will live and who will die, Abriella doesn’t know what to do.
This should have been easy, but nothing ever is, and her time to choose is
running out. So much blood has spilled for this.
The Outfit is in shambles, grieving and angry. The families
just want peace. No one knows who will take the Chicago throne because too many
men have a stake in this game. In wars like these, no one will let it go
easily. They’ll be bloodstained until the very bitter end. And left breathless
in the devastation of it all. Has it been worth it?
*** Please Note: Breathless is the fourth book in a series
and should only be read after the first three books have also been read. It is
NOT a standalone.
Excerpt
There were very few things in life that made a man worthy.
Those things became lessened when a man was in the mafia. Instead of his value
being counted in his actions and words, it was tallied by his deeds and
possessions. It was determined by the number of men on his streets and the most
red he could cover on a map to say he owned. Tommas Rossi had always found it
amusing how made men were called Men of Honor. There was nothing honorable
about this life. The Outfit had forgotten honor a long time ago. Long before
the war. They breathed. They bled. Life and death. That’s all this life had ever
been. The one thing in his life that had kept Tommas honorable throughout the
years was just a few steps ahead of him, but still out of reach. Tommas tugged
his jacket tighter around his neck, determined to keep the cold February air
out. Even with it being the last days of the coldest month of the season, he
knew the weather wouldn’t let up for another two. Probably. The bite of the
wind was the only thing he seemed to feel lately. Maybe that was why he
preferred to be outside rather than inside. “No way,” a familiar voice said
down the way. Leaning around the lamp post, Tommas watched the two women walk
arm in arm down the street. His eye caught the taller of the two and the dark
waves of her hair that flew wildly in the wind. For a moment, he felt something
else. His heart splintered. It was an agonizing crack. He hated it. But he
loved her. “Not at all?” Abriella asked. “No, I want to make sure it’s all pale
yellows and greens,” Alessa replied. “No pink. I hate pink. No dark blues,
either. I don’t want to know the gender or make people think we do know what it
is.” Abriella’s laughter floated down to Tommas’ spot, traveling in the wind.
It was a sweet sound, and one so familiar to him that it soothed the deep ache
inside his chest. But not for long. It never lasted very long. He hadn’t
expected to see Abriella strolling out of the hospital with her sister in tow
when he arrived to visit Theo. His plans to see the Capo had been forgotten
while he followed the sisters down the street. “I’m excited for you,” Abriella
said. Alessa tugged her sister closer. “Me, too.” Tommas wondered if Abriella
was smiling. The fact that he was the cause of her unhappiness lately, or the
majority of it, sucked away what little soul he had left. People shouldn’t hurt
those they loved. God knew he had grown up in a home where that’s all he ever
saw. His mother hating his father, and his father despising his mother.
Violence. Drinking. Abuse. Tommas wanted to be better than that, but then he’d
went ahead and got himself mixed up with a girl eight years younger than his
thirty years. Someone that the Outfit determined he couldn’t have because of
her status and last name. And because he wasn’t good enough for her with his
status or last name. Fuck. He knew better. All those years ago? Tommas wasn’t
stupid, but it had been fun. Just simple, honest fun with a girl who tasted
like trouble all over and gave him a whole new thrill that had nothing to do
with the streets, being a Capo, or the mafia. Somewhere along the lines, fun
with Abriella turned into a private apartment with her clothes in his closest,
scarfs hanging off the bedpost, and her lotions in the bathroom. It changed to
comfort. She seeped into his blood. She infected him.
DON'T MISS THE FIRST 3 BOOKS IN THE CHICAGO WARS SERIES....
Grab All Three Books Here:
AMAZON
About the Author
Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother
to three young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada
where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her
boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his
shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time.
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