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...
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