From Jilted Bride To Mafia Empress

his every move. I was Dante Gallo's unofficial Consigliere, his partner in everything but na

onated my life. It was a photo from Dante, showing a platinum wedding ba

engraved initials 'D.I.' didn't stand for Dante and I. They stood for Dante and Isabella-his childh

unting me, sending a picture of them tangled in bedsheets with the cap

la's fiancé, a man far more dangerous than Dante. "Your fiancée is in Suite 8808 at the

pte

ina's

t harbored an infuriating truth: my seven-year love story was a lie, and

been the shadow behin

e like a phantom haunting the city's underworld, a figure wh

the legitimate front of Gallo Imports-an achieveme

ategist behind his every move, and the unofficial consiglie

rable in every

, he final

e an afterthought, with the ceremony set for the Feast of the Assumption.

message was nev

gital bomb that obliterated the li

tomorrow morning.

, unmistakably Dante's. I recognized the rin

o my finger. It was exactly the same as the one in the photo, just a s

ante

and Is

ne. His childh

olt of lightning, knockin

ella was about to marry into another family. And marrying me

onvenient cover-up for

help but la

f his coat. He saw me standing in the dark, my fac

wrong?"

e I had seen this morning was gone, replaced

. "Don't be dramatic, Sera." He walked towar

ise movement. I held up the phone, sh

and the ring, the color drained from his face. Then, just as quickly,

flat, betraying none of the agonizing

s coldness melting into

alized this w

n years we shared stretching betw

l. The door slammed shut behind him, the sound

ghts for a long time. Then, with steady steps, I walked into the kitchen. I

izzle, the rich aroma filling the air. I wa

o enjoy a great meal t