img No Second Chance With The Cold Don  /  Chapter 3 | 37.50%
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Chapter 3

Word Count: 1079    |    Released on: Today at 20:09

as

of the Falcone penthouse, the b

uched, a pathetic monument to the evening's ru

my side, his head

jured in an explosion at the syndicate-fu

od, my face an

f the private yacht deployme

ing them to clear out of

stood under the scalding water of the shower,

secure phone and scrolled t

llance footage of Siena bending over a hospi

o the mattress and wal

on the lower level, the sound al

I looked down from th

ng a limping Julian into the

ce and asked in a weak voice, "Is it

ed him that he was s

floor to inspect the chemical bu

taircase, my bare feet

irk as he looked up at me,

s black card and threw

e safehouse or a decent hotel?" I mock

ft a thin red scratch across Julian's

dened instantly

me, reprimandi

e explained, "because the local hospitals

looking at her wit

ecutive of the Rossi operations," I mocked. "An

e and made a single

at a Famiglia-controlled hospita

ked Siena, "Are the hospitals

, fake tears welli

he begged Siena. "I

at my wife, waiting to see how

er emotions cooling under my stare,

should go to the hospital where

thetically as he playe

se any more trouble," he said,

after him, nor did

shut, she pinched th

between us on the sprawling leather

e with exhauste

ers asked me to protect," she tried to

the sprawling leather sofa,

from the coffee table

une violently shattered the

n up, my gaze d

s disrespect

oment, her eyes w

d, "to make me seem less intimidating to children

alked over, and s

tightly envelop

Don's wife and a mere university stu

and rough, as if I

w my hands from he

reached your privacy to touch your phone," I sta

ession faltering as if she could

thing I own is yours to inspe

desperate sentence, the chee

icked, screaming voice bl

flood Siena's face, wiping a

d up, speaking rapi

," she told Julian, immediate

her, my voice

door, and we

r hand resting on the

d heavy, her brow deepl

ies," she explained, claiming it was a staged hit. "It is my fa

reiterating, "You a

, "do not speak of d

or open and vanished like a

ear Omerta, and leaving me in the cold realization that my wif

by morning, I would mak

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