THE LITTLE GIRL ASKED TO SIT WITH A STRANGER—BUT HER MOTHER NEVER EXPECTED THE MAFIA BOSS TO RECOGNIZE HER FACE

a swallow.

Damen picked it up.

His hand closed around it.

He had given Clara one just like it the autumn she turned nineteen.

The metal was still warm.

Behind him, Marcus had already turned away, his thumb moving across his phone.

Whatever had begun had begun.

That night, the house on Beacon Hill was dark except for the library on the second floor.

Damen stood continue reading …