na
smile in the Grand Foyer, my mind drifted to a me
hetic frame-up to accuse me-the commoner Queen-of attempting to assassi
hogany table with a deafening crack. *"If anyone touches my wife, I will have the Underboss and my Enforcers dragimmediately backed down, scapegoating a low-level Associate to save her own s
om. Adeline had orchestrated a lavish luncheon, ostensib
rling her expensive Bordeaux. She didn't look at me, but her target was obvious. Isabella smirked into h
hed my chair back, the legs scraping harshly against the marble fl
onto my silk sleeve. Chiara looked up at me, her
th that familiar, sickening fragility. "Don't anger th
ood run cold. This was the exact face she wore b
ping around her wrist like a vice. I squeezed until I felt the
monic, hollow rasp meant only for her
e sweet victim shattered, replaced by raw, unadulterated shock. She stared at me as if look
inevitable praise of Chiara'
sery. I needed silence. But the moment I stepped onto the plush wool
ive-month-old son, swaddl
cooed, stepping toward me to present
ld him
a weak commoner
see a pure, innocent infant. I saw the ten-year-old boy standing in the shadows of the in
tural scream tor
ty. Perfume bottles crashed to the floor, shattering into a h
er chest, backing away in sheer terror. Sensing the panic, Leo bega
ushed into the nursery, th
n glass. I curled into myself, trembling violently as the past and present collided in a horr
ing. I needed Dante. I needed the terrifying, absolute protection of his arms
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