The mafia heiress revenge

radled the limp form of his wife, Abigail. Her once-radiant beauty was now

gh the dark alleyway. "Abigail, please... Please

seeped through his trouser

d forth, unwilling to let go of his wife's lifeless body. He was

lissfully unaware of the dangers that lurked in the shadows of the

e without her. The world had become a col

at haunted him like ghosts. Who would do this? Who co

e was no one there, just the dripping of water from a nearby

hands and clothes. He held her tighter, as if his embrace could so

ng blue and red lights that reflected off the walls of the alleyway. But the emergen

strations were nothing more than a formality, their stethoscopes and defi

errogate the widower. But before a word could be uttered, the sound of angry footsteps echoed down the al

m. "He killed my daughter! You took her away from me, you monste

ons were like daggers to his heart, but he was too numb to defend himself, th

, he felt the police officer's handcuffs bite into his wrists. The cop didn't offer a word of expla

emained fixated on the ambulance's taillights, which grew smaller and smaller until they disappeared into the night. The drive to

on, he was led inside, the clang of the cell door so

d seeping through the fabric. His hands were caked with the evidence of his tragedy, a reminder of the life he had lost and the accusations he faced. The weigh

unwavering as he awaited his response. But his mind was lost in the mi

e your lawyer?" the man repeated, his voice insistent, but Jude could not hear him. He was lost

*

ess, as if she had simply been born perfect. Her hair cascaded in golden waves, dan

chievous gleam, filled with the untamed spirit of a wild animal. And when she smiled, her entire

if the universe had aligned, conspiring to bring the two souls together. His heart

fts to grand gestures of love. But the most potent weapon in his arsenal was his genuine adoration for