Three months later, Valenti Estate sat under a constant, suffocating tension. The maids moved through the halls on tiptoe, afraid that even the smallest sound would trigger Dante's rage.He was back.The bullet hadn't killed him, but it had blown through his shoulder blade and left permanent nerve damage. His right hand could no longer pull a trigger the way it once had.When the weather turned damp, the pain became unbearable. For someone who had spent years living on the edge of death, the damage was a hard blow.Even so, the hatred burning inside him outweighed the pain in his body beyond comparison."Don Valenti, we got word through the back channel. Donna, no, Ms. Silvia Serra booked a flight back next week. That man is with her."Dante sat in the shadows, turning Silvia's personal M1906 over in his hand. His strikingly handsome face had been sharpened into something vicious by months of gloom and weight loss."Then, they're not leaving. They want to get married and live a
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