Too Late For Regret: The Mafia Princess

a

ssio extracted me from

plaster, his eyes hard and his commands unyielding. He had warned me then t

mmand. I had craved the idea of belonging so acutel

e the Don from ever referring to

ndowless room in the sub-basement, near the groaning pipes of the kitchens. Meanwhil

ement made me sick, I broke. I begged Cas

na int

n, in a calculated fit of hysteria, she ran to the balcony ledge. She balanced there, a silhouette against the e

g me toward the rough flagstones as he rushed to restrain Serafi

ed into a humiliating, deep curtsy before his chosen sister, my head bowed as

Serafina's tyr

g me as a mere Associate, a servant on the family payroll. During exclusive Family banquets, she ensured the guards kept me

the Don's surname, but I was no

refused to stoop to Serafina's hysterics. Instead, I remembered the words Leo whispere

's heel against marble sna

he mausoleum, her postu

ou entered yet

," she mocked, the wo

ingers dug into my skin, attempting to drag me

my feet on

ated. "I want to go back.

ne lines appeared at the corners of his eyes, and

our guardians are dead?" he demanded. "It

g hold. He stepped into my space, his chest brushing

. I looked him in the eye. "I have

f with a laugh lik

the gutter where y

er eyes. "I wager my life she will come craw

, Cassio did not immediately side

er of something other than certainty in his voice. "

d at his hesitation. She poi

must strip yourself of everything f

is arms, assuming the threat of

challenging stare

my shoulder, its heavy buckle thuddi

, tracing a cold arc through the air before collapsing with the

ear of any regret, "is everythi

leum, away from the only blood I had ever known. I did not look back