THE MAFIA BOSS SAW HER LIMPING IN A BOARDROOM—AND ASKED THE ONE QUESTION HER BOYFRIEND FEARED MOST

brick and rusted fire escapes, the front door never locking right. Selene climbed three flights, ribs screaming, and stopped outside apartment 3F.

The lights were on.

Grant was home.

She stood there, keys in hand, breathing in and out.

The door opened before she could unlock it.

Grant stood in the doorway in sweatpants and a wrinkled T-shirt, hair messy,continue reading …