Broken Strings: The Mafia Wife's Exit

chair, when I heard my husband tell another

w I was on the other sid

was the girl who saved his life in a

story, and now she w

in his dungeon and whipped me until I passed

ce my fingers open, destroying my ability

we fell into the freezing ocean, leavin

stopped fighting for a

rother, the D

" I whispered into the

ruth. To see the medical records proving I

trap us on an island, be

rs streaming down his face as he

standing behind him with a rifl

shattered vase,

y new protector

pte

rope biting into the tender skin of my wrists, when I heard my

sharp enough t

e Mo

called the Ice Prince because his heart was supp

old. The man I married three months ago in a cathedra

paper-thin wall in this godforsaken safe hous

y thud of a body

cture in my room ratt

d of weaponized innocence that only a sociopath could perfect. "I cannot stay in that

nothing," D

rds. It was a low, dangerous rumble that usually mad

everythin

me with the butt of his rifle before Mia took him out, suddenly vanished.

a screamed. "Why did you bring tha

ilence. Heavy

ng. A hand hitting the wall near

reason. The New York alliance gives me the power to keep the Commi

my vision, hot

re. A political necessity to ensure

hie

owed to cherish. I was armor. I was a tool

Sofia whimpered. "Y

on. "But every time I look at her, I wish it were you. You are the one who saved me in that ca

punched fr

e. The snow. The Spri

f Vitiello territory. I was the one who found him. I was fourteen. I tore up my favorite sil

with fever. He hadn'

rrived, I had been pus

new. I thought

he d

ht it wa

a week later. Sofia, who must have stolen my

wore. "By blood and by breath. Do

und of a kiss. Des

sed m

dried on my arm. But the real wound

loved di

arried

going to have t