His Heartless Betrayal: My Escape from the Mafia

phin

haze, my body aching, my soul hollowed out. On the second day, I stood before my vanity and applied m

ed the Costello family for forty years

you to have every piece of jewelry, every designer bag, ever

his expressi

are to be donated to a charity

inished the order, his brow

ngry reds and blacks. "I don't like them anymore," I replied, my tone

sh in my mouth, but i

sive embrace, his lips brushing my temple. "We'll go t

he interruption. It was my uncle. His voice was warm, obl

ady on my tongue. "My condition

ed the phone from my hand. His voice

ice formed

his tone, the way a handler soothes a spooked horse. "It will be good for

ht in my chest. The Rossi estate was a sprawling mansion, a relic of old money and older secrets. As

his hand possessive on the small of my back. She looked fr

re?" she a

roductions. "This is Seraphin

ed, exchanging pleasantries. I stepped forward and

ning sapphire necklace, the sto

tiful," sh

," I said, my voice flat.

e, but he piled food onto my plate-steak, lamb, rich sauces-muttering

steak, just like me. But Damian knew she preferred seafood. Discreetly, when he thought no one was looking, he caught the waiter's eye a

born of intimate, long-held knowledge

as a con