She Returned: A Mafia Boss's Nightmare

married to another woman for three years. I found out the day

overdue. He had forged my medical reports, painting me as a fragile,

me hysterical. She stole my art portfolio and claimed it as her own,

freezing river to retrieve my father's medallion that she'd throw

sabella faked her own kidnappi

e East Coast, my guardian, the man who had sworn to be my sh

r dead. But I didn't die. I survived. Five years later, I have a new name, a new life, and a husband

pte

ra

e world down for me has been marri

and was supposed to be a ticket to a future I thought we would build together. I had planned to fly home, to

my discharge papers. "All clear, Miss Elara. Though

tening on the envelope fro

ease a full year ago. We were simply following Mr. More

sent me every month-thick packets of paper detailing my "worsening PTSD," fi

a clerical er

the first flight out of Switzerland. I needed to see him. I ne

ast Coast, the absolute ruler of the Moretti crime family. He'd inherited the throne at twenty-five after his father's assassination, and in the te

an, my protector

ard voices from the alley. Two of Dante's Soldier

d anniversary?" one of them chuckled. "Neve

plied, lighting a cigarette. "Ends the war,

ing me like a physical blow. My

daughter. The Don had to forge all those medical reports to keep her locked up in Eu

a cont

e I knew better than my own. Dante. He had stepped into the alle

nce she gives me an

Elara?" one o

was as cold and hard as granite. "P

th my feet. It wasn't a mistake. It was a lie. Three years of my life, stolen. The man I loved, the

hielding my tear-streaked face from the flashing cameras of the press. He'd quietly had the photographers' cameras smashed and their bodies dumped in an alle

ly, tortured for information I didn't have. Dante's Vendetta was swift and biblical. He burned their warehouses to the ground

isited every month, his touch the only thing that soothed the viol

His name flashe

d, my thr

oice clipped. "I'm busy

ed to hear your v

tomorrow. Be go

ed, my body moved on its own, a hollowed-out shell stumbling to the penthouse

then I heard it. The unmistakable, rhythmic sounds of passion coming f

oor, a strangled, broken sound esca

again. An un

mperious voice asked. Caterina Mor

es

er tone leaving no room for argument. "Disappear from my

wave of agony. My father's face flashed in my mind-his death had been th

rsary of his death," I said, my voice hollo

ended t