A mafia billionaire freezes at a painting he thought depicted a dead woman—until three starving triplets reveal a truth that changes everything

the Public Garden, then the South End, then farther south where the city turned rough and sidewalks cracked.

On the tenth morning, an elderly flower seller outside a church studied his face and said, “You’re looking for the little red-haired angels.”

Dante’s chest tightened. “You’ve seen them?”

“A few times. They don’t beg like the others. Proud little continue reading …