LOGIN"That woman..." she pointed at her without a shred of hesitation, "...should be ashamed of herself. If she wanted to help you, there were other ways. A decent woman would have taken you anywhere but here. Instead she surrounded you with this filth and expected you to believe it was a home." Denise
Hazel held her tightly, too tightly. As though letting go for even a second might mean losing her all over again. She buried her face against Gianna's hair. "You found me..." Gianna whispered through tears. Hazel couldn't answer. She only held her closer. Then, over Gianna's shoulder, Hazel lifted
Salvatore watched her, "Hazel." She didn't stop, "If there's even the smallest chance my daughter is there..." her hands shook as she pulled on her coat, "...then she's not spending another minute in that place." She was halfway to the door before Salvatore caught up beside her. "Hazel, we don't
She slipped off Denise's lap and crossed the room, wrapping one arm around the pole, she pushed lightly from the floor. Her body rose in one smooth motion. She curled around the pole like a ribbon caught in the wind, every movement precise, every line unmistakably shaped by years of ballet. For a
Gianna laughed, suddenly shy beneath all the attention, "It wasn't perfect." "Oh, listen to Miss Perfection." Denise pointed toward the chrome pole standing near the corner of the room, "What about that?" Gianna followed her finger, "The pole?" Tasha nodded, "You think you can climb it?" Gianna
Before she could react, Morgan gently pressed the black costume into her arms, "Wear it." Gianna stared, "...No." "Yes!" they all shouted in unison. Denise hid another smile behind her coffee. Gianna looked toward her for help, "Mama D?" Denise lifted both hands, "I've learned not to argue when
A small, uneasy breath left Hazel’s chest, but she still looked uncomfortable, “She didn’t mean any disrespect,” she said quickly. “She just… she’s always been like this.” Dad’s thumb rubbed slowly across the back of her shaking hand. Hazel looked down at their hands for a moment before continuing
Don Vincenzo’s study. She turned toward me and gave a small polite smile, “You can go in.” My fingers curled slightly at my sides. Through the thick door I could hear the low sound of men’s voices. The maid knocked once and then she opened the door for me. I stepped inside. The study smelled fa
"Too much butter," I commented and let go of her hand. Gianna’s eyes flashed with a sudden fire. She pulled her hand back and slammed the rest of the sandwich down onto the plate like I had ruined it. “Seriously?” she snapped as she pushed the plate away from me a few inches, “Get your own sandw
I forced my hand to go flat on the table. I wouldn't run the check. I wouldn't use the satellites or the bank records. I would respect the line my brother had drawn in the sand. "The meeting is over," I said, standing up. I stood up and left the meeting room without saying a word to the men behind







