She Jumped: The Mafia King's Eternal Regret

s King of Chicago. Not because I loved him, but because I

ended, I placed my re

just refuse i

ign, Cayla. Yo

sistant in love with him. He let his cr

own blood to save her aft

ing fountain when she li

He didn't take me as a guest. He put me on stage, in a silk dress

perty that misbehaves," he s

dn't run away. I drove to the

ng and let the icy water tak

that bridge, holding my cracked

wallpaper. It wasn't him

woman he was about to marry was the one

pte

la

moment I placed the cream-colo

ad reduced my soul to ash, yet the ink hadn't even

k white against the d

leod didn'

ming through the docks, his brow furrowed in th

st made me

e a low rumble that vibrated throu

gnation,

ken five years of brutal pract

finally

nd utterly devoid of mercy. He ruled Chicago with a brutality tha

then at me, and let out

he Mcleod family, Cayla.

d him, my tone soft but firm. "And my contract

standing in the shadows

from the Persian carpets, paid off the corrupt precinct captains,

tly, he knew

leaning back in his leather

in the air lik

I whi

n had bled out in my arms. I didn't tell him that with h

burn the city down if he is alone. Watch

ept my

cruelty, fixing his catastrophic mistakes

the desk as if it were trash. "You stay until I sa

pick up t

clicking on the cold marble, echoing

ght to the Fa

h my trench coat and chilled me to the bone. I stood befo

ld stone. "Five years. I kept him

ers of his name, the stone

comin

d no reason to keep breathing. The exhaustion w

uzzed agai

as B

to get to the Cli

gned, B

into a Pink Slip race against the

mach d

kless. And the Southside was vital-it was the

I asked, though I was alre

k, Cayla. He's goi

ke a woman

halt bordering a sheer drop into the lake. I sk

slightly. Cherrelle was draped over him, laughing, a ha

lain doll-beautiful, fr

me and

ton. The he

the car, his eyes g

n up my mess

ordered, snatching the keys fro

use

s race, you lose the territory. You lose the t

rmission. I shoved him t

into the driver's seat, the leather m

to life, a beast w

s engine next to us, the s

lag d

oore

en guardrails. Grafton was shouting something, but I t

rgical precision Ju

ners. Drafting o

The final turn was comi

trying to run us off

inch. I hel

finish line a

he road was slick with oil and

spun v

ail rushed

heel hard to the right, putting my side of the car

rieked i

ed into a mil

my head, white-

, si

My vision was swi

s shouting my name, but it sounded

ad thrown into the car before the race. My h

it out

n," I w

d in to greet me,

ike Juste