His Wife, The Underworld King

ruthless Don of the East Coast. I secretly ran my own underground network,

om Europe and publicly paraded her at the syndicate gal

was nearly five months pregnant with his heir, but he was too busy building a fake mafia resume for his mistress to not

devotion withered and died. I had labored in the dark for a man who only want

arrange a

the estate. At the upcoming National Commission Summit, I will step out of the shad

pte

phin

ve a low tremor against the starched linens. It was a message from my

ilk is laid out. The gala at the Syndicate Club. Be there,

ting heart stilled by his own hand the night before. The procedure I was about to

ed against the chill of its steel frame, while the fluo

s a surgeon indentured to the violent pacts of our world. A tremor ran through her hands a

arcely a sound. "If the Don learns what happened last night, he'll

d. "The ultrasound confirmed no heartbeat. The damage... he made sure of that when he thr

sharp clatter against the tray. "You're t

e home enraged over a minor territorial loss. I tried to speak, to tell him of the pregnancy, and he silenced me with his fists. Whe

rgument would find purchase. Her fingers shook as she passed me a list of preparations, h

a single fold, and pl

, this time with the vibratio

een, the green icon a sickeni

rmth or inquiry. "You will be dressed as befits the Don's wife. T

on on the screen, and I pressed down unti

his throne over the bodies of his own uncles-a man whose quiet civility in a tailored suit w

he one who quietly rerouted untraceable funds, shoring up the foundations of his empire. I had labou

d only hi

alcone Estate, whose stone walls had be

ack gown was spread across the bed,

er my skin. I turned sideways to the long mirror. The dark mat

e one he had murdered witho

ht in my throat. It was a f

side Syndicate Club on Julian's a

from the crystal chandeliers into jaundiced beams. Capos and Made Men inclined their

t looked

ce, his jaw set as he managed the logistics of hi

ors at the far end of

chi entere

d before his title claimed him. He had brought her bac

er, the encrypted devic

ance, and laid a hand on his chest. She whispered something to him. Julian inclined his head

ided her toward the VIP tables, his departure so

e in the centre

h. I turned and walked toward the women

e heavy doo

wives of Julian's senior Capos. My entrance

one of them said with a low laugh. "He tre

s she applied her lipstick. "Seraphina is a civilian. No name, n

ft foot, the stiletto heel grinding into the grout betwe

r chatter ceasing as

urned the gilded faucet. The water that

y eyes dark hollows. The last filament of devotion to

d off t

men in the mirror and allowed the corners of my mouth to lift into

oice even and clear. "I m

en haze, my husband was building a throne for another woman. He did not know that the foundatio