My Mafia Husband's Deadly Secret

sia

of smoked glass and black steel that offered a god's-eye view of the city. I'

at something he'd said. Her presence here wasn't a social visit; it was a power pla

ed. "Alessia. Be a doll and get

Don's wife-like a servant. Dante's men watched, their faces carefu

r weeks. In that moment, I felt the last ember

my voice a perfect ma

eliberate slowness. When I returned, I walked toward the desk. Isabella rose in

im of the cup, directly onto my r

asped, dropping the cup and saucer

a cried, but her eyes were glitteri

t toward her. He put his arm around her

la?" he asked, his vo

e. He didn't see my hand,

a snarl. "Look at this mess. Clean it up. A

verdict, delivered before his entire court

mpared to the cold, hard certainty that settled in my soul. This wasn't an accid

was gone.

errible was taking root. A quiet,