Too Late For Regret: The Mafia King's Runaway

Vitiel

ssessing the heavy, suff

oom, my head throbbing in a b

eath the bed, I checked my pho

Jet waiting at Teterbor

s all I had to erase t

idn't pack jewelry. I packed only the essentials-the thi

e buzze

om Dante'

it to fin

chair, his head tipped back, mo

d: *He sleeps so peacefull

nt it. She h

but I felt nothing. I was hollowe

e hung our wedding portrait. It was six fe

e heavy fram

hit the floor, the canvas

r opener from the desk, I drove it into the ca

free and fed them to the

nding thick black smoke curling

lled out Dante's suits. His

roll of blac

ming them in with zero regard for the fa

the bags t

one b

photo fr

mond ring on

he sun,* the

band sat heavy on my finger. The Moretti fam

led i

elt light.

ightstand, letting the met

ut my diary. Ten years of entries. Ten

ack to the

e book into

blacken, watching the ink o

More

ide with shock. She looked from the slashed pain

the bags t

voice flat. "Take

are Mr. More

sn't live here a

me, confused a

bed my

her, not bre

opped. I looked b

The bed was empty. The ring glinted

one b

Dante's parents smiling

he image. I deleted

d the fin

my contacts. I

e Con

tion prompt

e

house and climbed in

at the windows. I

alread