Rising From Ashes: The Mafia King's Bride

ella

od still lingered in the back of my throa

mother's jewels, and my father's love. I could still see the cold indifference in my half-brother Angelo's eyes right before he struck the match. They

n't consumed me. T

itting in the plush leather backseat of a Moretti family Cadillac. Three years of forced exile in Switzerland-a punish

ates of the Russo Estate. Rocco, a low-level Soldier loy

respectful smirk playing on his lips as he looked at t

thrown a tantrum, demanding the respect owed to a Cap

ow. I simply sat in the shadows and g

he crisp air. He walked up to Rocco with the terrifying, silent grace of a predator. Before the Russo Soldier could eve

said, his voice devoid o

terror. Under the absolute, crushing authority of t

ain driveway. I was a queen returning to her stolen ki

her, Luca; my stepmother, Beatrice, wearing her usual mask of maternal concern; my half-brother

, though her eyes were sharp with calculation. "We weren't expecting you to make

insult, tucked away in the

ing hand to my chest, playing the fragile,

y nerves are still so fragile from the shooting. I need to be surrounded by beautiful, comforting memories to heal." I let

nto a grimace. "Izzy, sweetie, th

ze into the guest room, but..." I let out a soft, distressed sigh, looking down at my hands. "I just don't know what Signora Eleonore will

wrapped in a sweet, girlish concern, but it was absolute. Beatrice's face drained of

suddenly looking very small in her expensive si

is it, Carm?"

er the crushing weight of the Moretti name and the

d out, her fists cle