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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Author: Iris Brown
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-06-14 02:07:54

Lyla’s mouth opens slightly in shock. “I'm so sorry.” I study her face, looking for signs of pretense, but there's none. “It's fine.” I grunt, standing up and taking the plates to the sink. My mom and sisters. My heart beats.

I wasn't able to protect them that night. All they had done was go to the church to pray. I close my eyes, gripping the edge of the sink tight.

*“Don't be too long, Mama,” I shout out, knowing whenever she sets foot in the church, it could be hours before she comes out. “Emilio, my child, I want to go pray for the souls of your brother and you. I do not like these decisions you are taking,” Mama retorted, steeping down from the car. Ever since she found out my brother wanted to go back to the Mafia, she had been grumpy all day.

“You know, Mama left that life for a reason. And you guys want to drag her back into it,” my sister says, giggling. Her twin and she were the carbon copies of my mom. “Mama knows we need to do this.” I reply, hanging my head in shame. We d
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    LYLA’S POV The man grabbed me by my forearm. “Follow me,” he hissed. I glanced back at my men. “Where will you take them?” “None of your business,” he hissed, dragging me into the large house. “But don't worry, I won't kill them. Not yet.” I swallowed. Emilio had called him his uncle, and Isaiah called him father. I thought he was an orphan. How come he— “Do you know who I am, young girl?” I shook my head. “No. They never spoke about you.” Isaiah trailed behind us. “There was a reason for that, Lyla,” he answered. “My father is—” “My son is dead,” the man hissed. “He died the day he ran away. I do not know you.” “Father, please,” he begged. “Get lost,” he said. “Before I shoot you.” I watched Isaiah slink away. “You should not scream at your child like that,” I said. The man glared at me. “We're going to my study.” I walked behind him. “Your house, it's beautiful.” It was almost as big as Christians. “Thank you,” he said. “I got it from my father, and he go

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    LYLA’S POV The man grabbed me by my forearm. “Follow me,” he hissed. I glanced back at my men. “Where will you take them?” “None of your business,” he hissed, dragging me into the large house. “But don't worry, I won't kill them. Not yet.” I swallowed. Emilio had called him his uncle, and Isaiah called him father. I thought he was an orphan. How come he— “Do you know who I am, young girl?” I shook my head. “No. They never spoke about you.” Isaiah trailed behind us. “There was a reason for that, Lyla,” he answered. “My father is—” “My son is dead,” the man hissed. “He died the day he ran away. I do not know you.” “Father, please,” he begged. “Get lost,” he said. “Before I shoot you.” I watched Isaiah slink away. “You should not scream at your child like that,” I said. The man glared at me. “We're going to my study.” I walked behind him. “Your house, it's beautiful.” It was almost as big as Christians. “Thank you,” he said. “I got it from my father, and he got it from my g

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