Too Late For The Mafia Don's Regret

Ross

e next morning

, a chaotic stain on the manicured landscap

ay in the grass near his li

mething in his

wasn'

rs. I went into the master bedroom-the room I hadn

pack. I

mal portraits where his eyes held no light, only a

nds chosen by a personal shopper who knew my taste better than

dger. *Minus five.* Th

en, looking like death warmed over. He poured coffee wi

e kitchen, blinking against

e... the thi

drinking tea, standing by the is

ou're cleaning. You alway

t angry

for it like a drowning m

way it never did for me anymore. "I'm coming

me, already moving toward

ember 12t

is hand on hi

versary of my

e. The man to whom he ha

g but real, cr

cemetery. I'll drive you.

on't h

ing to regain some shred of a

d against the windows of the armored S

wed, playing the part of the grieving son-in-law, while holding a b

m sorry, Papa,* I thought. *B

ar. Dante was alread

ing again,"

red it o

rill, piercing the heavy silence

l, his knuckles turning white.

. I'm scared. I'm on the sho

," he said, his voic

oked

miles from the city, surrounded by in

her," he said. It

e?" I

he Don's wife." He pulled the car over to the muddy shoulder. "Get out. I

g me on the si

coming for you, Elara. Yo

t," he

him. Really

it me instantly, soaking my c

out into

. He floored the gas. The tires spun, spraying m

illights fade in

s al

ld seeping into my marrow. I reached into my

around the curve. Fast. Too f

r must have been texting,

ack, but my heel

first. It was just a mas

fl

rushed up

, no