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ella
my bones, the air thick with rot, cheap liquor and the stench of my impending death. Starvation wrack
n the dim bulb's glow, a sickening triumph on her face. Clutched to her skirt is a two-year-old b
, stepping into the damp cellar. "Our man'
de. "A goomah is just a warm bed, Angelica. You'll never be this family's lady." Before s
ings to Marco's leg, the word
h. "An old gunshot wound, you said." Angelica cackles, sharp and gr
ay your gambling debts! I endured Nonna's insults, gave you everything-and you don't even have
co hesitates a split second, then leaves, slamming the door shut. His silence is my death sentence. "We don't want a split," Angelica
ake Michigan," she continues, greed blazing in her eyes. "The world w
ll hunt you-Donna Vittoria will never allow this!" Angelica laughs. "S
who'd signed my death warrant. Dr. Russo lunges, pinning my shoulders to the freezing floor. I thrash and scream, but
on fades to black. But in the suffocating dark, I don't pray for mercy. I swear a blood oath-Vendetta. If I survive this hell, I'll become the monster the
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