The Don's Unwanted Prize.

ike a countdown to an execution. Today was the day I s

like a coffin. My head throbbed, a brutal reminder of the cheap liquor I'd

Tatiana's voice slic

my eyes. My sister pushed into the room, he

you sorted," s

ess sharp in my throat. "He's just happ

with the North had turned us all into monsters or corpses. My father, Don De Santis,

this up, you'll wish

eck. He stood in the doorway, his shadow s

. He didn't look at me with love; he looked at me lik

hot enough to scald. I wanted to wash the 'South' off me,

vorite" hidden in the vanity drawer: Xanax. I didn't take one. I took two. I washed them d

knock. No respect. He grabbed me, turning me around roughly. He wasn't

to betray him. He'd hated me ever since my twin, Enzo, outed me in middle

" he said, smiling. "

mask. I walked down the stairs with a fake swagger,

s opened, the air left my lungs. Silas Vane stood at the altar in charcoal bla

hing a wounded deer. I looked at

he drugs, half from the sheer, terrifyin

t I only heard the s

has an ob

as didn't turn to look; he drew his gun at th