“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.”

been hunting my family while I sat in my ivory tower.

A suffocating, murderous silence fell over the cafeteria. I could feel the old Dante waking up—the butcher who solved problems with a garrote and a shallow grave.

Luca grabbed my wrist. “Dante, listen to me. If you go nuclear on this, you prove every terrible thing Elena believes about you. You prove continue reading …