She Hid in the Mafia Boss’s Closet. At Dawn, He Learned She Had Been There Before.

“Will she need stitches?”

But that is not the injury I’m worried about.”

Dante glanced at the doctor.

Marianne Keating was in her sixties, sharp-eyed, silver-haired, and fearless in the way only people who had seen too much suffering could be fearless.

She had patched up Dante’s men for twenty years and judged him silently for all twenty.

“She’s terrified,continue reading …