The Collateral Bride's Final Eternal Sleep

Author: REGINA SIMONDS

Chapter 1

Word Count: 592 | Released on: 21/05/2026

me six months to live when I heard m

ho had buried three rival Bosses before his thirtieth birt

ircle," he said, his voice a low, possessive rasp

ral weight.

protect me when we were children, pressed her

illion times easier," Rosa whispe

ed around the medical report-Somnus Decay, termina

I didn't scream or cry o

tched over this blood-soaked Family, and took the firs

pte

ena

s than a prayer card but

Syndicate's underground medical archives. The nerves would degrade by slow degrees until

y alone, until I reached the iron gates of the Falcone estate. I came to the old oak in the courty

when I he

undred soldiers and controlled every dock on the eastern seaboar

fragile sister," Rosa said, her

le of the Syndicate. She str

his hand dropped. Dominic didn't even flinch. He pulled her against his chest and his fingers p

into her hair. "Drop the collatera

fell

me to a rival faction because of my weak heart. Rosa had grabbed a steel pipe and stood between me

ng rings. She laundered money through shell companies and front businesses, e

e most dangerous man in New York, she wh

t my chest and smiled through

peace. Even if it meant removing

Chapter End

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The Collateral Bride's Final Eternal Sleep

REGINA SIMONDS Mafia

“I was holding a diagnosis that gave me six months to live when I heard my fiancé's voice behind the oak tree. Dominic Falcone, the Don of the New York Syndicate-a man who had buried three rival Bosses before his thirtieth birthday-had my sister pinned against the stone courtyard wall. "I arranged the betrothal to keep you inside my circle," he said, his voice a low, possessive rasp. "Drop the collateral weight, Rosa. Let her go." The collateral weight. That was me. My sister, who had fought off armed soldiers to protect me when we were children, pressed her forehead against his chest. Her shoulders shook. "Surviving this life would be a million times easier," Rosa whispered, "without having to carry her." I stood frozen behind the bark. My fingers tightened around the medical report-Somnus Decay, terminal, six months-until the paper crumpled in my fist. I didn't confront them. I didn't scream or cry or demand an explanation. I closed my eyes, made a silent vow to whatever god watched over this blood-soaked Family, and took the first step toward orchestrating my own quiet disappearance.”