The Legend Mafia Slave

roze. It wasn't unusual for Makidi to come home angry or frustrated-being a Mafia boss meant his days were rarely peacef

s soaked with sweat, clinging to his broad chest, and his face was flushed. His hands trembled

wiping my hands on my apron. He did

nd making me flinch. "I knew it," he growled, his voice low but filled

t. I didn't know what he was talking about, bu

ser, my voice steady despite the fea

and something else-pain. "I just came from a meeting," he

the edge of the counter to steady myself. This was it. The secret I had kept

uld feel my hands shaking. "What... what do you

Mande. You've been in this house long enough. You were

along? That Julianna had made me swear on her deathbed never to tell him? That I

tone sharp and accusin

dy my racing heart. "Makidi, I..." I

ed, his voice echoing throug

I nodded. "Yes," I whispered

x of shock, betrayal, and fur

ling. "Julianna... she told me. She made me swear

e moment she lied about Nicolas. She let me believe he was mine. She le

as still the man who had raised him, but I knew it wouldn't help. Makidi was

shaking. I had never seen him like this-broken, vulnerable. It wa

uttered, his voice muffled. "I

placing a gentle hand on his shoulde

ture of anger and despair. "Can I, Mande? Can

here, silently offering what little comfort I could