Pampered By The Ruthless Mafia Boss

nd a loving fiancé, until my mother's heart failed

my fiancé kicked me out of our shared home to marry my stepsister

lar payout from the Russian mob to clear his gambling debts. He traded my future and my mother's life for a luxury car and a lavish wedding for his stepdaugh

idesmaid dress, demanding I stand behind

s and watch me win. Because if you don't, Fa

into the dirt, expecting me to be

e of their crimes. On the day of the wedding, I threw that cheap dress in the trash, put on

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pte

ena

I fail, the underground doctors will simply let her die. This fact is a small, cold stone in my gut, the r

wed tape to the peeling concrete wall of the off-the-books clinic. The ai

he numbe

. Room and board included. Gov

this. Only the mafia pays a fo

m the wind that whips off the East River, a damp chill tha

A fiancé. A clear path toward

mother in a heavily guarded ICU

ut. He is a low-ranking associate, a man whose ambition to become a Capo has corroded everything human in him. He

ina emerge from the bedroom in a wedding gown-a garish thing, bought with the funds meant for my mot

cowardly slump. He owes half a million dollars to rival factions, the predictable end for a degenerate gambler. He ha

ey vanished into the maw of his debts, the remainde

ower, his name dragged through the mud for malpractice he did not commit. As his sole protégé, my own

cold, hard knot in my stomach. I cannot affo

umber on the flyer an

answers. Her voice is crisp, profess

r business

ut the governess

brief pause

are you?"

-four,"

quires specialized care. We n

t creak under the pressure of my thumb, its scre

ve to force the words past the constriction. "I minored in child psychology. I was the sole protégé of D

oes comple

ty in the underworld. Dr. Rossi saved countle

s. Her tone loses its flat, administrative q

," I

applying to b

y," I say. "And I know h

of a pen scratching o

"Tomorrow at nine in the morning. Arr

l disco

of chlorine, yet a dull drumming reverberates deep in my ear

cello F

man in the city. Rumors say he killed his first man at sixteen. That he dismantled an entire rival facti

myself into the

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