“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.”

records. He warned me that if I didn’t vanish in a blaze of glory, your cartel rivals would hunt me to the ends of the earth before I ever reached the third trimester.”

“Whose body was in the car, Elena?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I never asked.”

I nodded slowly. In my world, some questions were accessories to murder once answered.

“I thought… I hallucinated continue reading …