“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.”

way.”

“Figure it out. Fast,” Nico shot back, showing rare defiance. “Because if those kids are yours, they aren’t going to give a damn how many men fear you.”

The truth stung. I shoved the heavy door open and stepped out into the deluge. I didn’t bother with an umbrella. The freezing rain soaked through my shirt instantly, a physical punishment I felt continue reading …