nna
er, a combination that felt like a damp wad of cotton pressed into the sinuses. The tinted windows
urn. He held it with a twisted, possessive reverence. The posture might have suggested patern
ther seat. I tried to ta
turning to the estate," he murmured, his voice a low, resonant
. I looked straight into h
m I did not know I possessed. "Have you held our dead daughte
es in his jaw ticked. His sil
rols the funding for the private sanatorium where your mother resides," he warned
s quietly enforcing my total de
?" I choked out, the sound hollow and broken. "To freeze my accounts? To dep
ing our dead daughter's ashes as a hosta
boy's name?
the window. He
dates aligned in my head. Serafina died in
were never for her anniversary, were they? You timed them for his birthday. On
ll the confirmation I needed. One itinerary. Two fulfillments for the Don.
I demanded, my voice c
a long time before he knocked on the priv
s phone rested on the center console. T
ish that his Papa won't bring the lady to see the aurora next time.
uding on their family vacation, and now he was ev
sanatorium. I got out before the car even fully stopped. Dante f
He looked nervous, wiping at the sweat on his
walked straight toward the elev
s throat. "Signora," he stammered. "Your mother, Rosa...
my tracks. I turne
ect orders," the Director quickl
lt in the dark, one message at a time, while Dante slept beside me. I bypassed the main elevators, sprinting down a hidden stairwell that led to the underground VIP medical wing-a secure sector
on the sill was a child's paper airplane,
ng in messy crayon were the words: Pap
mother. He had let his mistress
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