Reborn: The Lethal Ex-Wife's Bloody Return

ella

ago tasted like

of Valenti territory, watching the taillights of the black SUV fade int

wife, Izzy, bu

Seraphina Ricci, the Falcone Consigliere's daughter. I chose exile. Stripp

ke through the sound of the

usted dumpster, soaked to the

am

of losing me. My heart shattered and soared all at onc

. A derelict m

mell of mildew and impending death. Angelo lay on the stained mattress, his small chest heaving with wet, sh

egged, bringing a cup of lukewarm

His fever-bright ey

elet-Damien's wedding gift, a golden shackle that now felt like a mockery. With a g

Without hesitating, I sliced it across my own wrist. The p

pered, pressing my bleeding wrist to hi

ed on his chin, useless. I collapsed over hi

ien

se, casting a warm, golden light over the modern art and

her crystal champagne flute. She wore my ring, my name, and a silk robe th

lla's exile had solidified my alliance with the Falcones, cementing my power. But Ser

my pocket and dialed

rust-belt town in Indiana. Go ther

ng dinner. I pulled my new Queen into my arms, completely unaware of

ella

motel room was he

wo days, suddenly smoothed out. He stirred weakly. His bea

thereal smile-a final, innocent offering of love. Then, his tiny han

sp of his br

e word tearing my throat.

my ears. I didn't scream. The grief was too profound, too absolute for sound. In that cramped, r

eternal. A promise written in the blood on my

nde