Rejected by the Mafia Don, Claimed by His Rival

sia

ers, what passed for a "get-well" gesture in his world. I was on my pho

itory. Ten d

ou're going?" he demanded, his voice low and laced

into a mask of indifference. "That is no longer within

ighting, screaming, begging. He dropped the basket on the bedside tab

and suffocating. He was expecting me to break, to say something, but I

into the main hall,

ooking artfully distressed. Dante released my wheelchair without

the main floor-began to roll, picking up speed. It was heading directly for a large, decor

ough stone floor. A fresh wave of searing pain shot

er eyes before she masked it with false sympathy. "Oh

oman," he stated, his voice flat. He turned his back on me, le

a triumphant whisper only I could hear. "He ch

before she straightened up and took a deliberate step back, her heel catching on nothing at all. With a theatr

" Isabella shri

uled a dripping Isabella from the pool, his eyes bu

edge of the pool. My heart hammered against

lay in the wat

he air from my lungs. Panic clawed at my throat as he held me down, his hand a

hrough the water, through my very soul. "And I'll strip you of your name

storted, watery blur. Then, he pushed me deeper, and I sank