Too Late For Regret: The Exiled Mafia Princess

nna

t in my palm. Ice-cold metal

back into the alley shado

oaked jacket," he said from the darkness

ng. Three years of believing my father died instantly in a crossfire. Now the thought

f black coffee across the

around the mug, letting the h

r trail that proved I'd been a permanent dishwasher at Rosa's for five years. I accepted my new reality. Day after day, I s

derbelly. Made men, low-level soldiers, desperate street runners filtered in

Bosses. Valeria was poised to be crowned his Mafia Queen, rumored to be already flaunting my late mother's vin

invitat

ate tailored suit walked in-one of Angelo's elite personal guards. H

he placed a small black v

quests your presence

n't l

rested my delicate gold half-moon pendant-the n

at is rightfully yours. Stop bei

bitter, sc

eeting his cold eyes. "I only kno

er snatched the pendant just before it fell into the sca

stupid bitch." He reached acro

amped down on his wrist like a steel vise. Pietro twisted the Soldie

d to his knees, gr

al purr, "that if he wants a living woman,

t. The man stumbled into the neon-li

or, flipped the sign to cl

hey really want yo

elo likes to

en. Angelo knows her assassins are coming for you. He's trying to put you somewhere he can contr

ledger page from his trench coa

ion stamp for the night

protect my father's flank had been deliberately pulled away.

yal Capo. The stamp made no sense-unless

e. Angelo spent those years supposedly investigating the massacre while servi

w wh

. "That's the part you

limb to the top of the underworld, the first thing t

loser. "Do you

t hesitation. "But I

's old loyal Soldiers will contact you tomorrow. But

ack alley as the blo

he same Soldier stood silhouetted in the doorway, his mangl

lly tomorrow evening," he spat.