o the Falcone estate, locking me in my childhood bedroom like a shamef
id, brought the whispe
o your father that Sofia looks nothing like the heroic Angelo. The Dark Don was just probing, but your
d to be
d hallway. "I won't go," I rasped, my chemically burned throat making my voic
down. But I was still an Enforcer. Muscle memory took over. With my one good hand, I seized hi
la shrieked, rushing from t
, terrifying realization. They couldn't break me
ning room felt like a tomb, the ancestors glaring from their portraits. Isabela wept crocodile te
shly desperate for a shred o
bedroom. My legs gave out. I collapsed onto the c
Marco, Isabela, and L
touch like ice. "This is to sa
ning mix of fear and excitement dancing in his
ght hand. The hand th
Leo didn't stop. He moved to the next, the iron jaws crushing bone and cartilage. Ten sickening snaps. Ten agonizi
nya Falcone died. They didn't love me. They only loved the power
ages. It was Isabela's birthday charity gala at the Waldorf Astoria. The ball
Donatella Romano, the shrewd matriarch who
dded, deliberately backing int
Women screamed. T
ra
onatella Romano's feet. The jazz band faltered into a dead silenc
ised my heavily bandaged, mangled ha
uttural sound carrying through the dead-silent ballroom. "I am Anya Falcone
readable, the weight of the Commission's laws
asped, locking eyes with the ma
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