Romano family's private penthouse suite. The transition from the chaotic ballroom floor to this h

rile rubbing alcohol. A man with a leather medic

or murmured, his eyes av

rt in a viper's nest, but my pulverized fingers throbbed with a blinding, wh

I found the freezing, black

blood and the caustic, burning iron of the chemicals they had forced down my throat. *Crack.* Leo's heavy leather

their faces twisted in

of the Falcone dining room. Isabela's perfectly painted lips curved into a

und that would echo in my s

unc

artilage splintering into jagged shards under the crushing pressure. I screamed, a ragged, silent tear from my ruined voc

tly jerk

room. Cold sweat plastered my hair to my face, soakin

and sorrow to suffocate me. But there was nothing. The agonizing fire that had

. My mistake was handing my loyalty, my blood, and my hard-won crown to a pack of rabid wolves who didn't deserve it. The Anya who craved a

ed by the be

She looked into my eyes and suddenly froze. Whatever she saw in my gaze made her breath hitch. She

claws resting against the dark silk. The physical pain was a d

nered coward was dangerous. By morning, he and Isabela would be spinning a web of lies, using their wealth to paint me as a grief-s

y chemically burned throat. The demonic rasp

he simplest mourning gown you c