The Don's Wife Is His Executioner

ia

tate the following noo

ick manila folder across the marble island, the rasp of paper

go with no legitimate employment history. She survived entirely on fifty-thousand-dollar monthly wire tran

lipped to her

abeled *Fathe

*Mother* listed a

as heavily redacted with thick,

said, his voice tense. "It requires high-level Syndicate clearance t

g deeper. Bypass the Family's firewalls if

eavy front door swung

nst my palm. Sofia strolled into my foyer-but she was not alone. A woman in her late forties walked beside

into my usual armchair, twirling a heavy brass

arance," she announced

, a sneer of disdain twisting her painted li

ld him I lost the baby naturally. Consider it a favor from me to you." She touched up her crimson lipstick and snapped the

e guards stood shoulder-to-shoulder on my porch. "Dante assigne

years of barrenness for you. Two

d?" I asked, my

is born. He will force you to accept the new hierarchy." She

lead pipe for me? Do you know he served a decade in a cage and built an empire

mile turning vicious. "Dante is warming my bed

zing water cascaded down her shocked face, ice cubes tumbling through he

through the front door, hand

d. My voice carried the unquestio

at the floor, and slowl

a. "If you breach my territory again, I

solid black credit card onto the foyer table. "Dante sent this. A milli

but I kept my face

the door. As they passed me, she stopped. Her gaze locked onto mine-sharp, complex, intensely calculating, as if s

ng shears from the console drawer. A groan of stressed metal, then a sharp, definitive crack as

n shadows, clutching a dish to

mitted, my heart poun

rrogant twenty-three-year-old was just a pawn. The silent