The Underboss's Wife, Now His Queen

rina

yn Bridge, the tires humming a low, mo

as heavy. It pressed against m

tom silk tie, his breathing ragged and uneven.

m, to demand an explanation for the humiliation I had just endured at the auction. He was a bil

e him the sa

closed my eyes. My breathing remained perfectly stea

t, casting alternating shadows of red a

his expensive suit filled the quiet space. He coughed,

s flutter. I sat there as if

the rearview mirror. I saw his eyes widen slightly b

of partition filled the car. The thick glass slid u

rtition locking into

ant to throw a tantrum, do it in your room," he

yes. I turned my hea

And I felt nothing. It was the exact same absolute emptiness I had felt year

le, my mind simply severed the connec

y voice completely

k to the window and

e leather of his seat creak as his fists clench

y of the Long Island estate. It rolled to a sm

en. The crisp night wind rushed into the

didn't look back. I didn't wa

own in one hand and walked up the stone steps. My silve

standing by the car, watching me walk away. He was realizing th

e heavy oak door

t behind me. I turned the deadbolt. A sh

my bare feet. I walked straight past the massive ki

ing mirror at the very back. I pressed

, dark alcove. It was a habit I had kept from my days surviving

at an old, unnetwor

lastic felt heavy and

cle memory, punching in the s

my face. Lines of code scrolled down the screen, showing the s

t overseas number. Ther

exactl

ravelly voice an

in the darkest corners of the European underworld

n is over. Let