ella

ix of terror and misplaced rage. I kept my gaze fixed on the passing streetlamps of Chicago, ignoring his erratic

on Damien Falcone. Freddie would be laying out my life like a ledger: the daughter of a ruined legitimate family, the heavy dowry that bought my marriage to an Associate, and Hudson's pathetic gambl

xecution I expe

ls, paid for by my dowry, felt like a velvet-lined cage reeking

rate for the promotion he thought he had bought with my flesh. To soothe his bruised ego, he tried to reclaim his territory-me. E

ay, slipping out of his gr

erlying fear of what the Don might do if he bruised his new possession kept his

fragile, shattered smile that had hooked Damien on the stairs. It was Adela's smile. Freddie had tau

the past. Had I overplayed my hand? Was the Don's paranoia stronger than his obsession? A cold knot of unease tightened in my stomach. I couldn't afford to

am," the maid murmured through the door. "

s, masking my cold calculation

. When I pushed the heavy oak door open, I found him standing by the bar cart. His hands were shaking so violen

ling in shallow, panicked breaths. When he looked up at me, his eyes were bloodshot,

ked softly, pl

grabbed my hand. His grip was painfully tight, his knuckles white. He was a dr

fear and forced authority. "You're my wife. I need you to stay in