ian

he East River was bleeding into a pale, sickly gray. Down below, Athena moved among the cots. She wasn't of

he steps to my throne or a shortcut to my grave. I had wagered the last of the Morgan family's chips on the hope that she wasn't a

e black mourning dress she hadn't taken off since my father's funeral, a walking shadow of grief and iron

her voice devoid of warmth. "The

e behind, the tension in my jaw tightening. The moment my mother reached the floor, the murmu

co sei strisciata fuori?"* (Who is your master

l mio unico padrone è la vendetta, Signora Morgan. E sono strisciata fuori dallo stesso inferno che ha inghiottito suo

e. It was a silent war for dominance, and

strode in, bringing the sharp, salty stench of the docks with him

enough weight to shatter the tension. "On Kirkland's payroll

was real. The girl was real. I saw my mother pale out of the

an it up. Make it look

Boss," Leo nodded,

silver rosary. "Julian, you must be cautious. Ou

ute authority of a Don. "I appreciate your concern. But from now

back on her-a dangerous first-and walked across the floor to where Athena was leaning against a stack of burlap mal

r from my coat pocket and droppe

I told her. "We move b