ella

of the Heir's Wing was a suffocating display of Moretti wealth. Thick Persian rugs swallowed my footsteps, and

reached the heavy, carved oak d

brass letter opener. I brought the heavy hi

door; it was a death knell for their secrets. Within seconds, the shadows shifted. Soldiers stationed at the stairwell hurrie

candal had been dragged into the

. I stood in the center of the room, the picture of a wronged

ed from granite. Beside him, his wife, Elvina, the Mafia Queen, was des

orced warmth. "This is a terrible misunderstanding. Julian would never in

y the door. "Go fetch my son. Tell

ing bookshelves, his arms crossed. He was watching me, the drunken haze

looked pale, his eyes darting nervously

io commanded, his

. Julian ordered that no one is to disturb

. I kept my face perfectly blank, suppressing the cold smile fighting to touch my lips. By the bookshelves, Dante's posture stiffened

g. He didn't shout. A Don whose word was absolute law didn't need to raise his voice.

o Marco Moretti, Dante's

id of any paternal warmth. "Break do

et anticipation of a trap snapping shut. We heard the dista

returned, he shoved

lly messy, and her doe-like eyes were brimming with fresh tears. She loo

Underboss. The man who had orde

rapped tightly around Sofia's waist, anchoring the bastard to his side in a blatant, possessive grip. He lifted his chin,