The notorious mafia boss brought his mute daughter to a quiet diner. She had never spoken a single word in her life-until she pointed a trembling finger at the tired waitress and whispered, “Mom.” The boss froze, his cup shattering on the floor. He slowly stood up, locked eyes with the woman, and growled…

weight pressing down on my chest. Lorenzo had stolen my baby, likely to provide an heir for Damian—whose late wife had tragically died of a sudden illness years prior, a detail the house staff gossiped about in hushed tones—or perhaps to secure his own leverage within the syndicate. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that they needed me dead to tie continue reading …