o the Falcone estate, locking me in my childhood bedroom like a shamef

id, brought the whispe

o your father that Sofia looks nothing like the heroic Angelo. The Dark Don was just probing, but your

d to be

d hallway. "I won't go," I rasped, my chemically burned throat making my voic

down. But I was still an Enforcer. Muscle memory took over. With my one good hand, I seized hi

la shrieked, rushing from t

, terrifying realization. They couldn't break me

ning room felt like a tomb, the ancestors glaring from their portraits. Isabela wept crocodile te

shly desperate for a shred o

bedroom. My legs gave out. I collapsed onto the c

Marco, Isabela, and L

touch like ice. "This is to sa

ning mix of fear and excitement dancing in his

ght hand. The hand th

Leo didn't stop. He moved to the next, the iron jaws crushing bone and cartilage. Ten sickening snaps. Ten agonizi

nya Falcone died. They didn't love me. They only loved the power

ages. It was Isabela's birthday charity gala at the Waldorf Astoria. The ball

Donatella Romano, the shrewd matriarch who

dded, deliberately backing int

Women screamed. T

ra

onatella Romano's feet. The jazz band faltered into a dead silenc

ised my heavily bandaged, mangled ha

uttural sound carrying through the dead-silent ballroom. "I am Anya Falcone

readable, the weight of the Commission's laws

asped, locking eyes with the ma