Too Late, My Mafia Heir Ex

a

ttermilk with chocolate chips. I place the plate in front of him, my smile as

remind you of something," I

his mouth. The pain in my chest is a dull, constant ache, a fist s

d him, the smile drops from my f

ay. No preamble. The

om her end that I know are reserved for only the mo

it right. I need to disappear. He's the Don-in-waiting, Maya. If he thinks I've just run, h

for an eye, a life for a life, honor restored through violence. A Don who has been publicly sh

ness now. "It's complicated but not impossible. He

the sprawling city below. A concr

savings I have. I start taking on freelance graphic design work for cash, small jobs paid anonymously t

r rain and roses, three thousand miles from the reach of the Reed

stuffed bear he won for me at a carnival. I seal the boxes and shove them into the back of my

our usual coffee shop when the bell

in. My bre

's honor. He was parading an Associate, a disposable piece of arm candy whose only value was her temporary usefulness, while his fiancée-the key to a political alliance that would secu

something-guilt? annoyance?-before his face settles back into a mask of polite

th triumph as she deliberately detaches herself fro

uch about... well, about how difficult this must be for you. I just wanted to say, i

e wants a reaction. She wants tears, a scene. She want

erfect blank. I don't offer a

," I say, my voice flat

emotion. She was expecting a Caged C

y around her waist. The sight no longer causes me p

re, the Don's dutiful fi

goal i