Book Cover By: @writermarie__
Five years after a night of forbidden passion, a powerful mafia Don's violent pursuit of a debt leads him back to the enigmatic dancer unaware that she holds a secret that could shatter his empire: his heir.
...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Lyric
-Meanwhile...-
The stainless steel gleamed under the harsh kitchen lights, mocking my anxiety.
Hours had bled into an eternity since Tristian had left, a whirlwind of anger and determination, promising to bring Trevor and Allen back.
Each tick of the clock was a hammer blow against my sanity. The silence in the house was suffocating, broken only by the rhythmic chopping of Agatha's knife as she prepared yet another meal, untouched and unwanted.
"He'll be back, Lyric," Agatha said softly, her voice a gentle balm against the storm raging inside me. She ladled soup into a bowl, the steam curling around her face like a comforting embrace. "Tristian is a strong man. He'll bring him home."
I forced a weak smile. "I know. It's just...every minute feels like an hour. I can't help but think of Trevor, scared and alone." I clenched my fists, the image of my son, his wide, innocent eyes filled with terror, burned into my mind. "And Allen...God, my brother. He's been through so much already, I can't even imagine what they might've done to him."
Agatha set the bowl down and turned to me, her brown eyes filled with a motherly warmth. "They're lucky to have you. You're a fierce mama bear, Lyric, and sister. That's what will get them through this." She reached out and squeezed my hand. "Don't lose hope, child. Hope is all we have sometimes."
Her words were meant to be comforting, and a small part of me did find solace in them, but the seed of suspicion Tristian had planted refused to be uprooted.
I watched her like he'd asked, scrutinizing her every move, searching for any sign of deception behind her kind facade but I couldn't see anything. She was either really good at playing innocent or she really was innocent.
Was it possible? Could this woman, who had been a fixture in our lives since we got here, be capable of betrayal?
"Agatha," I said, my voice trembling slightly, "do you think...do you think Tristian made the right choice? Going to Moretti so willingly?"
Agatha sighed, wiping her hands on her apron. "He did what he had to do, Lyric. He's a father first, a Don second. He'd burn the world down to protect his family and Trevor was in danger. You should admire that."
"But what if Moretti doesn't keep his word? What if it's a trap?" The questions tumbled out, fueled by fear and desperation.
"Tristian is no fool," Agatha said firmly. "He's smart and rather he falls for a trap or not, he'll find a way out of it."
As if on cue, the shrill ring of Agatha's phone pierced the tense silence. She flinched, a flicker of something unreadable crossing her face. "Excuse me, honey," she said, her voice a little too high-pitched. "I need to take this."
