Too Late For The Mafia Don's Regret

Ross

of bleach and the frantic,

purgatory buried in the basement of a legitima

eaden, anchored by a

ng a drip. Her eyes were rimmed with

ispered, her voice tre

voice was little mor

. A hit and run. You

rting to the door, then ba

ied. But the hemorrh

sked, the dread c

the pre

n't spin; it

gnan

oked stricken. "You were

y stomach. Flat. Emp

by. A piece of me.

throat feeling like sandpaper. "W

y eyes. "We needed O-negative. You have a rare blood

nd

oss ca

veins, colder t

e cal

bruised knee and was hyperventilating. He... he ordered

ling, tracing the c

erve

e. If she goes into shock, I want everything ready.' The d

words, a sob tra

anded, my voice

y. Elara is tough. She can wait fo

bet my life aga

id with o

me that could feel pain had just been exc

here?"

ecovery. Ea

hild was incinerat

my

on

sed m

tally I had kept for years. The pages we

, he sacrific

us f

every

e

a pen,

ti, you nee

Me. A.

r, fumbling in her haste, a

the end of my bed. I flippe

steady. Terr

one se

comfort with you

It clattered loud

y where I had hidden them. In the back of the safe at the estate,

ring sensation in my womb, but it was noth

ng," I tol

can't

tch

were too stunned to stop the Don's wife, looking like a wa

the estate. I wal

dger on the cen

r, signed the bottom line, and placed

a bag. I didn'

nt door, and I disap