The Mafia 's Moonlight

ding page three of a dog-eared Wuthering Heights, lost in the stormy moors and Heathcliff's mournful voice. It was a

the weak aroma of old books and espre

voice was calm but sound more friendly. "I'm h

lished for the regular foot traffic. In black with a tailored coat and shoes that outweighed the cost of her r

part of town, down a crooked street. It was the sort of building that no one would notice. People

rayer. Her unobtrusive life, so carefully built in the last five years, was based on three

strange

rue what they say

resting on the lightly glass, his voice smoother than she could

autiously, setting the boo

ookstore here. That she sells novels during

red out o

ng fast against her ribs, a mad rush of

smi

e said. "Just as your

ent dry. "You

owed him more than I wish to speak.

name like

e for th

. "Please i don't understand what y

"Yes. A shame, really. He was a ma

she demanded,

na flinched. But he only pulled out a slee

e De

he name as if i

his was n

ang out with them. Enzo Marcelli had formerly spoken of the De Lucases

"Whatever you desire, whatever you

head to one side,

e of what your fa

, a flicker of fire rising in her chest. "F

at the arch of his temple, just out of reach, but it gave him the look of something cut from war. His

pered. "They just get weary of runnin

he nickname. you

othing to

is feet. "You have your name. Your blood.

breath

m warning you. You can come willing

ne calls that stopped ringing, the sudden silence of all who were ever family. She had kept it al

f wood, the string lights spread over the windows, the c

d where she

Shame if it

. He didn't wink. Didn't smile. He sim

said over his shoulder. "You

one, swallowed by

g into the edge of the counter as if holding on

the card still re

e De

ld be like. Her idyllic life,

d not simpl

and span in a tailored suit and