Neglected Mafia Wife: Out Of Your League

ray-to be the perfect Donna for Zeno, the ruthless Don of the Falcone

it. A color he had never once allowed in our bedroom.Our arranged m

nd in a fluffy cartoon mascot suit, handing spu

fake assassination attempt on herself. Zeno stormed into my territory, threw photos of her shattered arm on my mahogany desk, and dragged me to

ze, Bian

his wife and Queen l

lating 'Iceman' could be so easily blinded by a street rat's cheap tears. I had sacrificed m

ut my heart fina

ke th

the clinic, called my lawyers to draft a formal mafia

pte

nca

llar treaty, a series of leaked photographs flashed across the surface

Famiglia, encased in the plush, foolish costume of a cartoo

d scent the weakness bleeding into the water and tear apart the fifty sh

hmic thud of blood against my ow

ner in a bespoke suit-a man whose hands were legally cle

adiating a domestic warmth I had not witn

a Romano with an unguarded,

nd my ribs, as if a vital org

the polished mahogany tow

flat, even line. "Acquire their entire tri-state inventory. I do no

t nodded, h

m the network," I continued, the tone permitting no failure. "Enforce th

t. For eight years, I had drained the color from my wardrobe, a delibe

boardroom and into

Estate," I to

rtress of stone and shadow. I walked past the armed

wing, where Nonna Rosa lay i

as fading, the oxygen machine's soft hi

of her bed and t

r merciless clarity undim

photographs, Bi

ng across stone, but it carried the weight

uring the shootout," Nonna Rosa continued, her grip tighteni

e pressure of her bones a surprisi

r street-level tricks shake your throne.

he corridor. The temperatur

through the

ding of molars could be heard from deep in his mouth, making the line of his ch

ame, a small figure s

an

oversized sweater, clutching a cl

placing a heavy, possess

ity of your departure from h

laced with the authority o

a pass to visit my own gra

t him. My eyes r

itant step forwa

ere at the amusement park for the new Famiglia char

red a ti

to check the Matriarch's vit

silenc

ding by the curtains let o

"You do not ask the Donna to step asi

ng back as if struck. T

ed the room. He turned

men, his voice devoid of warmth. "A broken

s stepped

scraping loudly ag

ches her,"

he air between us fe

u built, Zeno," I challenged. "Or

man who never compromised, a

n. I was the heir t

hed out and wrapped his large, calloused hand

tted out. "She

t out a

lower class. I do not have your expensive clothes or your

p sneakers, my own face a

from a Donna?" I asked softly. "Especially afte

ng to her mouth. She looked

fted his

placing his broad shoulders d

y view of her, treating my mere presen

nt. He did not look at her as she was escorted out, still weeping. Instead, he turned his impos

use, Bianca," he murmured, his v