In my family, the notorious Fausti famiglia, I was known as…The Casanova Prince.
I, Mariano Leone Fausti, was a world-renowned Lothario.
Until the great hand of fate smacked me upside the heart, and Sistine appeared wearing a leather apron and holding a blowtorch. My reputation preceded me, and it seemed like all the fire in her veins was aimed at me—out of disgust. If looks could kill, I’d be The Dead Prince.
Sistine was a challenge I refused to lose, though. And it was more than Sistine herself that presented a hurdle.
She was the daughter of the head jeweler of the Cappello family. I was the son of a Fausti. An ancient rule existed between her blood and mine: unless I accepted fate’s test, we couldn’t be together.
As with all epic love stories, fate directed our destiny, and even if I won Sistine’s hand, the battle to keep us together was far from over. Fausti history would repeat itself in a way that might tear us apart in the end…
