The Mafia Don's Regret: Torturing His True Savior

na

looking less like a daughter an

ight with tape, rest

as a thro

bruises on my torso, my

eil opened

me with unm

"You look like a stray dog.

d," I muttered, limping

s set with gleamin

t the head o

at to h

ther'

, was fawning over th

massive sapphire necklace. "You mad

, gripping the locket in my p

down s

chase," Joyce said. "The

dn't

is voice cold and detached. "S

I pulled th

from my hand bef

," sh

slip from h

loor with a

she smashed her sti

silver

nge sn

ggled, feigning s

inside m

d my sanity to the

too

hand with everyt

ac

oyce's cheek with a forc

etest sound I

went dead

ed her face

hrieked. "Austen! S

up, his fac

la

hoved m

tripping over the

to a glass sculptur

hatt

my back through t

rt roared. "Lock her in the bas

ther's guard

me toward the

ing my heels in. "Not

to lock me whenever I got

dark.

piders an

me down t

nding hard on

lammed shu

ock c

swallowed

in short, panic

of mold tr

shb

n year

rawls

oking

leeding n

me," he had whispered

ed. "I'm your Little St

rocking back and for

ind you," I whisper

disso

how long I w

t the top of the sta

floo

rmed down

ked fr

la

me up int

like rain a

e said, his voice

ying the h

he hell he had a

ious with p

up at h

m look like the boy

uched his cheek wit

, my voice slurring. "Yo

en f

halfway up

went rigi

at me, his eyes

id you

y eyes. "Your real name. The one

art hammer ag

never know

knew th

irl in the

been torturing

his voi

leaving him alone with the trut