ssa
, deep-red Persian carpet absorbed the sharp clicks of my heels, swallowing the sound just as this house swallowed secrets. On either side of the walls, massive
hem j
rembled at the sheer audacity of it. The traditionalists in our ranks-men like Capo Vario-had celebrated my subsequent exile to a remote Sicilian convent. They tho
were
f the Vaughn family's border smuggling ring. He had bought my return with blood, profit, and undeniable levera
hogany doors to the study
Don Alfonzo Moreno sat behind his massive marble desk like a king on his throne, his face an unreadable mask of weathered stone
. With his silver hair and rigid adherence to the old ways, Va
ed purple. "She will bring the wrath of both the Blairs and the V
rous measure of the Don's prized Macallan. Vario's rant ground to a sudden halt. He stared at me in sheer disbelief as I sank into the plush leather sofa
a slow sip. "Keep going," I drawled lazily, w
ing. "Don! Look at her! No remorse! She has absolutely no respect f
ton Moreno was a man who commanded armies with a whisper, but h
ough the threat beneath the words was razor-sh
ered a theatrical, exaggerated y
nd the desk, his hands gripping the edge of the marble. "Don Alfonzo,
nto mine. There was no fury in his gaze, only a calculating, terrifyi
with a dismissive edge that stripped the Capo of a
the Don's tone, the unspoken confirmation that my actions were already

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