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

Mia had no control.

Finally, a small defeated voice broke the silence.

“I’m hungry.”

Willow closed her book.

Mia stood in the middle of the destroyed playroom, red paint drying on her hands. Suddenly, she did not look monstrous. She looked exhausted. Small. Lonely.

“I know,” Willow said softly. “Cleaning takes a lot of energy. Come on. Let’s scrub that continue reading …