Too Late For Regret: The Mafia King

na

n pieces of jewelry scatter

wed, becoming hea

lence-the warning sign every sold

teady despite the frantic pounding in my chest. "I told you I was r

rom the floor, his

coldly. "My operations require my full attentio

y existence as an afterthought u

n at the rui

letting out a dry, bitter laugh that scraped my throat. "You couldn't even be bothe

e space between us in an instant, a

d up, forcing me

ip a vise, tight enough to bruise. "You will clean up this mess, a

vorce, Vince

ink. I did n

ne agonizing second befo

was a direct challenge

left

away from th

me. "You belong to me. You belong to this Family. You w

oor, yanked it open, and

quired his fingerprint to be summoned, the security system his iris

lence, I walked over to the closet

on the edge of my bed ye

arkness, to internalize my suffering

that silence

anchor in this da

d my silence had

nly prot

f jeans, a few plain s

s, the expensive bags, and

ght with blood money, and walk

apers I had drafted months ago. I had signed them and sent them by a trusted courier directly to Vincen

heavy marble urn res

Rosa's

r from the cremato

husband, the former Boss, in the Family's a

ocking the door and dropping the

axi to the

I walked up the stone path toward the massive marble

iron gates of the mausol

he dim, quiet vault, holding t

alcove next to the

de, the rhythmic, heavy thud of b

ned a

e doorway, his massive fra

lder, holding a tablet that no doubt dis

blocked the stairs, their hands

open vault, and his eyes wen