Too Late, Mr. Don: The Wife You Buried

ia

n silence for a long

sy street on his end, a stark and brutal cont

inally demanded

ng the phone. "If I stay, they will kill me

of a lighter, followed by

his city down to the br

nd. The glass was spiderwebbed from where it had been thrown. "He has a r

papers, the sham marriage, the che

embling. "Total destruction. A classi

o professional ice. "Be at the private strip in two h

of lavender. A place where the name

welry. I took only cash and the fake passport Luca had for

ing of the suitcase shut w

housekeeper, Maria, stepped inside. She l

sking for you

ction in the mirror; I looked pale, ghostly. F

iting in the foyer. Gia stood beside him, her hand resting o

ing with a toy car on

love fighting to surface through the haze-confused, in pai

said. His voice was

diately-her perfume. It was cloying, sweet, and hea

?" I asked, keeping

if genuinely surpr

his is Leo. I am taking him on as

, sharp expression, like a

lo," she said, emphasizing the

was ten years old, but his ey

my," he

ted slap. Gia let out

t playing,

burning. I turned to retreat upstai

ecoming sharp and authoritative. "Leo made

tchen and returned a moment later with a steaming bowl of tomato soup.

," he

l, intending to set it down o

eramic, Leo's expression twisted. He sh

d splashed over m

owl shattered on the floor, the red soup looking li

a breath, Leo threw himse

g his unblemished arm, his face contor