A Pet for the Mafia Dons
Over coffee one afternoon, as Bianca sat curled on the couch, watching a rom-com with Sylvie, the biker’s woman said,
“Me and Barry have four kids. One of them is mine by another man, but Barry’s okay with that.” Bianca sat up, concerned. “Who’s with them then?” she asked, hating the fact that Sylvie had left them to come and care for her, Bianca. The woman seemed puzzled by the question. “Oh, they’re at the club,’ she said airily, waving her hands,” My girlfriends there, all old ladies, y’know, they’ll take care of them. And my eldest is already a prospect.”
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