Vitiel

ly. It tasted of salt, lemons, a

My legs were stiff, my side throbbed wit

ts with earpieces scanned the crowd with surgical precision. They didn't

ter of them st

"Enzo"

wear Italian silk; he wore a tactical black shirt that strained against the muscle of his chest. A scar ran t

he s

ar and strode toward me. The crowd p

nned my face, searching for regret, searc

id. His voice was

would," I said

like hel

l like

nvoluntary reflex born from the last tim

ly in his cheek. "I will kill him," he said softly. "I w

said. "Marr

tate. He snapp

with a bouquet of black roses

wers and shoving them into my hands. "I don't do soft. If you

black thorns until they bit

brushing the frantic rhythm

rch. We went straight

lcone marched in with his entourage.

e licens

is a waiti

swallowed hard, his face draining o

we were standing

o Falcone, take

wled, his gaze n

Elena Vit

ten years while I bled for his enemy. I looked at the man

d

he stamp hit the paper

lena F

folded it and slid it into h

into his arms, mindful of my injury, holding me against his

hair. "You are done bleeding for him. Yo

meras flashed in a blinding staccat

d the worl

a claiming, possessive kiss that stole

t the internet f

ello Union: A De