99 Roses for the Underboss's Wife

ost feared syndicate on the East Coast, and t

orld dominion, he secretly diverted my operations t

ublicly exposed her, Dante d

cross the face in front

his crying mistress to shield her

will send every single soldier i

destroy my reputation, painting me as a hysteric

sychological torture, believing my dev

nety-nine dried bouquets of white roses he kept in the attic to ca

trum, nor did I beg

table, drafted my mafia severance papers,

y own empire, and let him

pte

na

arista brag about her powerful mafia benefactor. My patience had already frayed to a single, taut thread when she casually slid a custom plati

ught the subdued, oche

d rose, catching in my throat like a fish bone. I tried to swallow

and was

n the East Coast, a man who had built his dominion

the unsettling stillness of his hands and the weight of his silence, which m

an whose power over the underworld was matched o

ling upon the watch. Her eyes widened, a flicker of recognition crossing her features. The han

es of syndicate-grade imported Italian delicacie

e three distinct, unmarked black crates. I reco

delivered to my penthouse every single year as a symbol of his wealth and suppo

the barista, Chloe, said with a bright, oblivio

toward me as the color drained from her face. She

r coffee and practically fleeing the sho

e, unaware of the invisible ligature

designer suit and the exhaustion that se

said, her voice dripping with unearned pity. "You should re

inst the cold marble count

asked, my voice d

he year. He tells me I'm meant for bigger things than just making coffee. He'

escended, settling deep in my

and the complex money-laundering

the syndicate, respected by my s

and constantly d

massive, dimly lit office at headquarters,

eyes over the files before

and dismissive, telling me my only duty was to look beaut

icate standards, slowly caging me in a subterranean vault that, no matter how m

heavy oak door so hard the walls shook, seek

truth coated my

ng my operations beca

ert the family's smuggling routes and resource

" I managed to say, the w

d to know, before this life hardened her. You really should find a man who t

ter, the air in the cafe su

into a dull red haze, and I could not hear the engine of my armored SUV over

with my husband's watch still burning in my mind-was the