The Scapegoat Fiancée: I Am No Substitute

ssi

ying, gray film that coated my hands and

other stainless-steel tray onto the metal counter with a d

ging the steel wool into the met

x where the Five Families rarely conducted business because the

Salinas girl was washing his dishes for minimum wage. He had si

days since I walke

hrough the Caribbean. I needed cash, and more importantl

door sw

dn't just go s

ng presence. I felt it in the way the air suddenly grew too thin to

eep voice

was a low rumble, ab

d, abandoning their stations, boot

t scr

scrape,

ess

right behind my

r suit, Don Moretti," I sai

my wet skin to pull my hand out of the soapy w

ned me

ked wr

s eyes that his aviators usually hid. In his

mething," he said

al counter, right next to a pile o

nut

share on the fire escape when we were teenagers-before he was the Don, before

oftly, watching my face

istine white frost

bling with suppressed rage. "You think a slice of ca

frustration. "I'm trying to fix this. But you... you ran away. You're was

wet, red hands on my apron. "And it's

g closer. He boxed me in against

gainst mine, a familiar

e them. We can get married next month. I'l

To buy you that armored SUV when the

as if I'd

sand studios. Just...

rom mine. His scent-sandalwood

to give in. It would be so easy to be take

is pho

ringtone. The

, the spell shattered. H

What? S

color drain

with panic. "She says she's going to jump if I don

dity of it was almost funn

said col

ssia

he chest. "Go save the princess. Go p

acking his composure. "If she jumps... the truce with the Fa

t?" I said bitterly. "Or maybe

ilent plea in his eyes, before he

e in the sil

oconut cake. Perf

it into the trash can, rig

sink and plunged my hand