ella
-four hours later, the air in the private booth of The Onyx Club was thick with the scent of e
Higgins, my husband and a mere Associate desperate to climb the ranks of the Fa
our bright future, *mia bella* (my beautiful)," he murmured, rea
gonizing memory of my daughter Josie's cold, lifeless body. I kept my eyes downcast, painting
a lowly street-level earner to a made man. I let him stroke my knuckles, cataloging every arrogant twitch of his jaw, every weakness I w
pproached the grand, sweeping marble staircase of the club, the raucous laughter and cli
Falcone h
apo*. The massive crystal chandelier above cast harsh light on the brass railings, but shadows seemed to c
, stepping forward with a sickeningly e
't even bli
thing more than a stain on the plush red carpet. The
mint and gunpowder, overwhelmed my senses. Slowly, deliberately, he raised a large, calloused hand. His knuckles b
in front of my husband, he
g of color as his last shred of mascu
My driver will pick you up tomorrow night," he murmured, his
turned and continued up the marble stairs. Halfway up, he paused, glancing over his shou
reathing ragged with humiliated rage. The ride back to our house was going to be
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