The Mafia Boss Killed His Mother
On the day of mafia families' annual gathering, my mother and I sat in the back of a Lincoln, heading toward the Falcone estate.
I was adjusting my dress when my phone buzzed with a video from my fiancé's secretary.
The footage showed a middle-aged woman being dragged by her hair across a marble floor.
Her cheek was already swelling, red and angry.
The secretary's sharp voice cut through the audio as she delivered slap after slap.
"Gianna, you pathetic gold-digger! Did you really think you could fool Don Falcone into marrying you, and then let your thieving mother wander into the estate to lift his mother's jewelry? Please."
Another slap. The woman's head snapped to the side.
"I'm doing Don Falcone a favor by handling this trash."
I lowered the phone.
My mother sat beside me, checking her watch with a slight frown.
When she felt my gaze, she looked up and smiled, then reached over to fold my hand between both of hers.
"The Falcone family is struggling with the new casino licensing, but we can help them with that since Don Falcone is your fiancé," she said lightly, "He is a striking man, sweetheart. Once the alliance is sealed, your father and I can help straighten things out."
I frowned and replayed the video.
Long dark hair pulled back loosely. Warm brown eyes filled with pain. A small scar on her left eyebrow.
Oh God. The injured woman was none other than Anthony's mother!
I called the secretary immediately. "Lilian, you idiot. That's Anthony's mother!"
She let out a vicious laugh. "Please, I know exactly who you are, Gianna. A nobody his father pushed onto him. Don Falcone doesn't give a damn about you, so why would he care about your family?"