Broken Vows: The Mafia Princess Strikes Back

ella

ng the marble coffee table echoed

what you'

hin and sharp enough to cut glass. Her manicured finger, trembling with rage, jabb

woman! You made Bob

st. He looked at me as if I were something he'd scraped off the bottom of his shoe. And draped against his side, sobbing wi

look at t

poplectic face, over Jerrell's co

tical. A perfect,

ready lived this

tered. They had branded me a murderer, broken the engagement, and cast me out. My own family disowned me to save their bu

body, before the wedding, before the accusations, before the alley. The clock had turned back. A

spine, but I didn'

ame faces. But this time, I wasn't the screaming, pleading girl from my dreams. T

y steady, cutting through Margaret'

. "Margaret, as far as I am aware, the only legitimate

r, a slap more resoundin

d rushed to her face, turning it a

epping forward. "Don't you dar

t a sliver of something akin to pity. He was a fool.

y head. "Jerrell, are yo

"Jerrell," she whimpered, pressing her face i

d around my legs. It was a dress I'd bought for a celebration that would now ne

window, my back to them. The manicured gardens of the Griffin estate stre

g with an authority I hadn't known I pos

audacity to call this a farce? Is this ho

My brown eyes, which people often called w

No. Today, I'll teach yo

m me, but I was faster. My movement was fluid, practiced-the muscle memory of a woman who

number fr

he first ring. No gr

ame and felt the ghost

er cold eyes and the way she moved like shadow given fo

. She was a tool. And tools, when

cation Protocol.' I n

before delivering them to their graves. In my last life, I

aced the phone on the t

a, crossing my legs at the ankle. A qu

her. Their shock was a palpable thing, a

cise and deliberate, "as of this moment, the engagement betwee

ropped. "What?

voice. "This marriage is not for you to

h escaped my lips. It w

toward Bobby, who was still trying

my smile widening, "perhaps we should first verify if a

body wen