She Died Once: Now The Mafia Kneels

ella

tasted like copper an

he look in Dante Falcone's eyes-a sickening blend of shock and agony-as I drove my mother-of-pearl hairpin deep into his throat. We had bled out tog

anished, replaced by the heavy arom

Estate. My hand hovered inches from the heavy mahogany door of my father's study. It wa

marry I

laced with an arrogant certainty

hal, Don Marco. I want Ev

d brought his memories of our bloody future back with him, and he thought he could simply rewrite the script b

the only one who

cry over traitors; we bury them. If Dante wanted to play the vis

dened my eyes, summoning a look of pure, unadulterated devas

ing. He looked at me not with the hatred of our final moments, but with a condescen

tarted, taking

speak he

o his feet. His broad chest heaved, his eyes blazing with a lethal, predatory fury. In one violent mo

as

ed across the hearth. The air instantly turned

g to a dangerous, gravelly register. "Your father, Don Vincent, begged for this alliance on his

on Marco. But there is no love between Isabella and m

oug

ercely into her arms, pressing my face against her silk blouse to shield me from the hum

glared at him with absolute disgust. "You break a sacred vow, and for what? You think our daughter is trash you can jus

rath of the Mafia Queen, looking entirely too pleased with himself for survi

ther's embrace, hiding the dark, v