The Mafia King’s Queen
“That’s the plan.”
The stylist clapped, twirling around me like an artist before a masterpiece. "Red suits you, Signorina D'Angelo. Danger and power, you embody it."
Rosalia grinned, her eyes sparkling. "Perfect. Classic Fiorella, classy with the suggestion she might kill someone in it."
The room burst into laughter. Aria doubled up, clutching her stomach.
"She's not wrong," I teased, tilting my head at the mirror. "I like it better. The color hides bloodstains."
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