NO ONE COULD HANDLE THE MAFIA BOSS’S DAUGHTER—UNTIL A WAITRESS WALKED INTO THE CHAOS AND DID THE IMPOSSIBLE

wood.

And there stood Josiah.

Covered in soot.

Suit jacket torn.

Blood trailing from a shallow cut on his forehead.

He looked like a man who had walked through hell.

“It’s over,” he said roughly. “The Morettis are dealt with. The house is secure.”

Mia cried out and ran to him.

Josiah caught her, burying his face in her neck, holding her so tightly his knuckles continue reading …