“Please mister, buy this painting so we can buy bread,” three dirty triplets begged. The billionaire mafia boss stared at the canvas, his heart stopping. The woman painted on it was the wife he mourned for years. With shaking hands, he pulled out a black card and whispered, “Take me to her.”

the wreck was charred beyond standard visual identification,” Nico said, tapping a typed page. “The coroner’s report states that dental records were never actually confirmed. The entire ID hinged on personal effects found in the passenger seat.”

I remembered those effects. The smell of the smoke still haunted me. Her silver bracelet. Her favorite silk continue reading …