Too Late, Mr. Mafia: The Surgeon He Discarded

nna

olor of ash. He stared at me as if I were some impossib

owance," he said slowly, slipping the

my voice as flat and e

leum floor, through the thin fabric of my hospital

de, the winter trees stood bare and sk

in that top-floor apartment with its bulletproof glass and

pel I had so foolishly abandone

or of the sickro

Cavalli

miglia, was draped in a tailored wool suit and a str

r, elitist curl of her lip. She ha

oman had made every wak

enom, and actively orchestrated every barrier between

dropping a thick legal contract next

ach word weighted with a malicious triumph. "And don't think for a second that the pathetic allowanc

already knowing exactly w

the luxury cars-and even the dowry my late parents ha

asure. "I will not allow you to take a single cent of our money. You take just the cl

atch me break down, to see the crushing realizati

er and walked to the small clo

few old medical journals I had secretly hoarded under m

oxes of diamond necklaces sitting in the drawers; they h

shut and slung it

I said

istocratic expression falteri

, pausing just inches aw

her harsh, aging eyes,

low and even. "The blood debt your son owes me

ly mask of sudden fury. Her mouth

er and walked out into the corridor, where the flu

't loo

n the hall,

a Fa

man blessed with a face of breathtaking bea

was the true mastermind behind my divorce, having used her f

f the hallway, cradling a massive, o

stretched into a sickening

se pity. "I heard the terrible news. The life of the Fa

a gesture that was nothing less than a

dead in fr

llow petals, and then I shifted my gaze to the st

ok the bouquet from

e right and dropped the expensive

ing each syllable emerge as tonelessly as if I were

le tremor began at the corner of her mouth. I savored it-the