ena

, and his presence was not a drop in temperature, but a physical wei

ure was rigid, his eyes scanning the room

cco. Instead, he walked straight to my side

word with deep revere

ng my gaze fixe

mself to sit up slightly, fighting the weakne

tayed firmly planted by

Breaking the sacred Omerta of our family history, he laid out

beside him was not his mother. With a

," Lorenzo wheezed. "And

he turned his head and looked at me. Not at Alessia. At me. The woman who had held his hand through every fever, who had taught him to read ledgers before he learned to shoot, who had never

is face becoming a study in s

meet his gaze, letting him play hi

en, a desperate, greedy smile stretching across her face. "My beautiful b

ward. The sheer repulsion radiating fro

his voice was a low

t her acting like a saint." He shoved his

w every cent I ever made at the card tables. I spent my youth paying

nd, her eyes flashing. "Shut

the bed. He stared down at Lorenzo, who was sh

ct me to acknowledge t

is mouth, but no

his voice echoing off the sterile walls. "She raised me. She protected m

amed frantically, pointing an accusing finger at

t cleanly through the screaming. It was the f

oth of you." The Don's chest heaved. "I hav

bed. "The will. You are finalizing the transfer of the Syndicate's

onsigliere," Lorenzo said, closing his

mirk appearing on her face. I kept my hands neat

sed, and then the oak door opened once again. The Consigliere stepped into th

the briefcase in the Consigliere's hand contained the instrument of her destruction. And the son she was trying to claim-the son she