A Devil's Deal With Mafia Tycoon

l

ered my small apartment, the one-bedroom flat with a kitchen that also served as a laundry room. I flicked on the light switch and then gave a small jump at the sight of the m

down on his fingers as he gripped his phone. It took him a moment to lift his chin and look at me, h

de of town or smoking in the cafés downstairs. Au Pied de Cochon was right near my apartment, one of the few restaurants in Paris that basically never locked their doo

him during his walk from the car. He left the green armchair and came close to where I stood by the round dining t

ed his infidelity, a treason he didn't even have the balls to tell me himself. But he'd made that request impossib

. We don't beli

under the assumption

not what

o doesn't need this shit. I want a man who keeps his word and is so

ed the reins on his rage. "I made a mistake. I told

s worth you

here was a lot of shit going on at work and I had too much wine to drink

es. "More like

ked on mine. "I said I was

vorce. I want you to stop popping up

still my

ck

is eyes briefly. "You wouldn't be thi

n angry per

ened once, and it won't happen again. I will do anything you want to make th

t the windows and the skylight above the kitchen. The curtains were open, and th

le

my back

will deny it. You will never remarry because your marriage to me will remain int

to look ou

on this marri

outline. The city below was so beautiful, but it was hard to appreciate it when I felt so low. I never shed a t

r was quick, al

is skin, and he spoke both French and Italian, one of the things that had attracted me to him. Marriage was such a profound experience that changed everything, and

hen I asked the question aga

what I saw. But I knew that I shouldn't even have to ask the question, that

as no on

t like a goddamn stalker so I can have two seconds to think." I turned bac