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ella
roat was so real I c
my fiancé, Jason Brennan, standing over my agonizing body with a cold, triumphant laugh. Beside him stood Elena Vance-the orphanedlth, Bella,"* Jason's voice echo
I was forced to watch the Gallos and the Brennans slaughter my fa
ate slowly came into focus. My wedding to Jason was tomorrow. But the terror vibrating in my bones wasn't pre-wedding jitte
he heavy cove
the room, her eyes
ed, my voice trembling wit
left an hour
velvet coat over my nightgown and marched straight
leather hit me instantly. My father, Marco Falcone, the Don of Chicago, sat behind his desk. Be
?" my father demanded, his dark eye
ght now," I breathed, stepping up to his desk. I met the Don's lethal gaze without flinching. "Ta
y, dimly lit hallway of a cheap brick apartment building in the West L
through the thin wooden door
's breathless voice.
n. The Don raised his heavy boot and kicked the flimsy door viol
here they were. My fiancé and my adopted si
na let out a piercing scream, scrambling frantical
hed up to the bed, grabbed Elena by her tangled hair, and delive
nom. "Your father was a loyal Soldier! He bled and died for Marco
ting standoff in the cramped living room. Jason and Elena s
life. Like a fool who fundamentally misunderstood the iron laws of
at my parents, then glared at me with blatant disrespect. "I love her. Elena is swe
away with blood. But the nightmare had burned away any tears I might have shed. I ste
dropping to a dead, chilling calm, "then why di
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