My Ruthless Mafia Ex-Husband Begs For Mercy

nna

he long mahogany dining table, cast

table, impeccably dressed in a

iliar ritual of preparing his espresso

art I had rehears

alked over and set the pl

a shard of glass, caught

one, studying my face wi

od?" he asked, h

the air. The usual warmth of my morning greetin

gile porcelain

I re

s a dead, h

toast, but I saw the flash

are you pe

ong table and sat, creating a ch

sip of my

erfectl

its saucer; the dark liquid s

n distant sin

ing frame casting a shadow t

nsgression I am t

a profound and unnervin

concern himself with the simp

w tigh

me in riddles, Si

d into my pocket and pla

ted screenshot acros

he one mocking me for repor

aper, and the mask of his c

rkened into a pur

e devices," he growled, his v

d his

xplain the me

kicking his

rossed a boundary no civ

the high ceilings as he spoke o

augh that cut through his

tand, unlocked. I did not spy

he table, stopping

lated my

d up to meet hi

my intimate photos? When you let your Associ

sively, as if swatting a

s what happens when a civilian s

ood, and took a deliberate step back.

t him confiscat

dropped t

a pathetic spect

s icy, conde

d be as ugly as wh

osened hi

actics shifting to a familiar,

. Why are you making a fe

essure tightened

d body with another

osecond, his eyes calculating

ily, the only one ruined by

ped ta

I understood he

ved I was too w

ys, a bitter cold set

om him all my

ved through the house like a

ietro returned from a s

ty ledger, when he entered the foyer and toss

and flipped

blood-diamond necklace-a care

he had once bought Zoya a custom-com

pushed it back across the

urn

ngers pausing while

pped to a dan

our luck, Sien

ity ledger with

etting it go' ent

velvet bench across from

. A Don needs an outl

over my chest, an

s of you wounded and bleeding to th

turned

uld not

his let

se you know it

d himself a scotch fro

uttered. "Are you going to b

dden, absolute sereni

We are

sound, and turned his back to me

. You will come crawling ba

ht of my phone in my pocket-its drive packed with enough evidence to unmake a Don. He believed I was too weak to