Too Late For Regret: The Mafia King's Runaway

York, sign away our marriage with the same cold in

d against the paper, drowning out the

her to read a

routine shipping manifes

Dissolution of Union" papers I h

rypted phone, frantically texting Sofia-the widow, the tragic

he stack into his armored SUV

concluded, El

hone rang with her s

rom cold boss to frant

t. She needs m

ction and ordered, "Get out, E

rain to rush to his mistress, completely unaw

ivering but smiling for

just signed his own divorce, I w

ng left but his shippi

pte

riage with the same cold indifference

thick paper, a harsh sound that rose above the rain ham

her to read the document. He did not check the clauses. He did not

ed phone, his brow furrowed in that dark, letha

afraid. I w

ow rumble that seemed to vibra

dow, aiming perfectly for the passenger seat of hi

concluded, El

e was titled "Dissolution of Union." Hidden beneath a cover sheet reg

ad just

But after three years of being the invisible wife, the trophy o

olled the eastern seaboard with an iron fist

, her eyes wide. She looked from D

ered, her voice trembling with

said, my voice dead fl

kept her voice low. "C

uty. The woman who called my husband at two in the morning because she heard a no

Mia hissed. "He ignores you

," I replied. "I am just a

r black SUVs idled at the curb, engines purring like beasts waiting to pounc

rld. Violence.

a piece of fu

r of espresso, dark and bitter. They swept over

r Sunday gravy," he s

te. He moved through the world assuming i

the skirt of my dress.

move the timelin

cisco is neutral territory, El

"He won't find a wife. H

immediately held an umbrella over me,

V, and the scent hit me instantly: Cha

's pe

seats. It clung to the

e and the smell of expensive tobacco and gun oil. He radiated he

st made me

sts?" he asked, his eyes

e divorce papers he tho

," I

week. I will be confirmed as abso

city blurring past. I am a loose e

h, jarring ringtone he r

e cold, calculated Don vanished. I

nto the phone. "Slow

my eyes.

t, his jaw clenching ti

t. Meatpacking

, Mrs. Moretti is in the ca

damn car around

g on the wet asphalt. I gripped

me. Not an apo

ner. Luca will take you

l set of his mouth. The man I had loved since I was sixteen. The man who ha

ed," he said, no

hreatened, Dante

out,

The rain was po

r. The cold wind

ar was pulling up behind us, but for

He was already shoutin

e door, I looked at

he papers, Da

d his hand dismissively, s

my shoes. They raced toward the Meatpacking Distr

watching the red taillight

I was cold.

ime in three years,