LOGINAdriano slowly lifted his boot, letting the blood drip off the leather onto the concrete as his stare swept across the rest. "Now," he whispered, a terrifying smile finally touching the corners of his lips, "Who else feels like telling me a story?" Morgan started sobbing violently. I shook my h
No, no! "I wasn't even there when they hurt the girl!" Cole yelled, "They brought her to me already bleeding! Brianna was the one who hit her in the head! She used a heavy wooden club from the garage! They carried her in here like a sack of rocks, and I was the one who washed the blood off her fac
Cole’s chest heaved, his eyes turned frantic, like a rat looking for a hole in the wall. "I know how Chicago works. You don't survive in this city by picking a fight with the Capones," he slowly shook his head, "I'm not suicidal." My stomach twisted. No. He was lying. I made a desperate sound
"Move!" Capone guards surged forward with frightening speed. Cole's men reached for their weapons but they never got the chance. One guard twisted a man's arm behind his back before he had even cleared his waistband. Another kicked a pistol across the concrete floor. Boots thundered in every dire
I looked at Cole again. He wasn't even watching us. He was checking his phone. Rage exploded inside me, "MMPH!" I lunged forward as far as the ropes allowed. "If she keeps doing that," he said calmly, "she'll reopen the wound." I wanted to claw his face apart. I wanted to scream. Instead, anoth
Gianna ━⊰ ❦ ⊱━ Pain. That was the first thing I felt. It was a deep, heavy ache that pulsed through the back of my head. It throbbed with every heartbeat, every breath, every tiny movement. A quiet whimper escaped me before I even opened my eyes. The world slowly came into focus. The ceiling a
DISCLAIMER This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is purely coincidental and unintentional. This book, including all i
Gold and one diamond, simple and elegant like her. The small pendant caught the light immediately. Ti amo. I love you. My mother used to trace those same words into my palm with her fingertip whenever I was little. Over and over until I laughed and pulled away. This necklace was different, s
Raphael ━━ ⛓ ━━ Gold-digging whores. I didn’t even have to look at them to know that’s exactly what they were. The smell of desperation always clung to women like them, no matter how much expensive perfume they sprayed on their wrists to hide it. Hazel Kinsley. She was the widow of some patheti
Gianna ━⊰ ❦ ⊱━ I tugged at the scrap of black lace riding up my hip. This outfit wasn’t clothes, it was a prayer. A tiny, see-through prayer. I caught my reflection in the cracked dressing room mirror and barely recognized the girl staring back. The silver wig was cold and synthetic against my







