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

horrific.

Bloodshot eyes. Rough stubble. Shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He smelled of stale scotch and despair.

He marched straight to Mia’s door.

“Mia, open this door,” he barked.

He rattled the handle.

It did not move.

“I am not playing games today. Open the door right now.”

His breathing grew ragged.

Grief and fear and the looming threat of war were breaking continue reading …