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

plainclothes guards trailed discreetly behind them.

Mia ran across the lawn flying a bright red kite.

Her laughter carried over the grass.

Real laughter.

Bright.

Alive.

Willow sat on a wooden bench, coffee warming her hands, watching the girl with quiet peace.

The violent tantrums were mostly gone now.

Mia had boundaries.

Consistency.

Most importantly, she felt continue reading …