Too Late, Mr. Don: The Wife You Buried

travel clearance. Instead, I was handed a

tiful Capo's wife, Dante had secretly divor

ly married the nanny, Gia, and na

him, only for the boy to thr

and looked at me with pure, drug-fueled hatred

in a parking garage.

me into the vehicle's path, using my body

ed Aria Vitiello was already dead to

over the Atlantic and ensu

kage, realizing too late that he had been p

dead. The Rea

pte

ia

ee years old, but the paper sliced my

known me since I was a child in braids. He was sweating. A bead of perspiration rol

for international travel-a routine procedure for the w

llow, as if coming from a great distance. "We are

with a trembling handkerchi

led by the highest judges in Chicago.

our fifth anniversary. The day after I had woken up alone i

ointed to the s

. Dated twenty-four ho

tiello.

, playing the role of the dutiful wife, hosting his dinners, warming hi

ment across the mahogany de

e boy, Leo, as his blood heir. The

sliding to the floor. Leo. The boy with the cruel eyes and the

e back, smiling as I drank the wine that tasted slightly off-metallic, wrong. I remembered the sickn

d sworn a Vendetta against anyone who had hurt

had married

, but my spine was steel. It was t

e these cop

ed out of the office and into the waiting armored car. The drive back to the estate was a blur of gra

. It was no longer my sanctuary. It was a stage, a

. I stopped outside the open d

y, his pupils wide and dilated. Gia sat on the vel

id softly. Her voice was like syrup lace

h his hair. He looked m

nothing. You are the Queen

ay of submission that made my stomach turn. Dante Vitiello did not kneel. Th

ric of her dress, his voice cracking.

fting to meet mine in the hallway

he said to him, st

ly safe. My hand went to my flat stomach, feeling the phantom ache of the chi

se. My hands were steady now. The sh

never used, but had me

ered when the l

rough like gravel. "Why ar

" I said, staring

e target?"

M