Breaking The Cage: The Mafia Wife's Revenge

ael

ngeles was quiet. S

ing a glass of aged whiskey. My phone lay on the tabl

her to stay in New York. I had told her it was over. But she showed up

Li

hen the wine soaked into

f I caused a scene with the New York delegation, the merger would collap

thrown my wif

y own voice hollow against the drone of the engines. "I'll b

ouched down

stairs. I expected a car. A drive

mac was

late stretch of concrete. I

l. A rental car agent was i

transport?" I barked,

was a ghost. "I don't have a

my right hand in Chicago.

on the app. Access Denied. Acco

ut on my back, prick

is go

xi-and directed the driver t

ic locks had been changed. The k

e street, locked out

ly buzzed. A s

s Jen

ayed

e Commission, your assets in Chicago have been seized pending an inv

stripped me. In six hours,

ennings' voice dropped an octa

t Mrs. Thorne was rushed to the hos

t stopp

could. But the stress... th

use. A silence

hael. She was three mont

umb fingers. It hit the pav

ch

as pr

. I did

y sidewalk. The LA smog choked

ena spilling the wine. Me telling Li

lled

led m

I punched the concrete until my knuckles split and bled, t

er my wife. I had chose

ng. No money. No po

Michael Thorne, King of Chicago, re

asn't as heavy as the guilt that settled on m

God help me, I de