Maid To The Three Mafia Kings
The air turned thick, heavy with the stench of mud and rotting leaves.
Evan cut the engine. Millie stayed put, staring ahead, ears straining.
A click—the trunk popping open. A heavy splash—something hitting the water, sinking fast. Then the lid snapped shut again.
Evan climbed back in, wiped his hands on his jeans, and they were off, the swamp fading into the rearview like a bad dream.
So long, Emily.
Don Hugo’s Mansion—
Somewhere past 1 a.m., Aidan Moretti stumbled into Don Hugo’s mansion. The place was a gaudy fortress of marble and glass, perched on a hill overlooking the city like it owned the city.
Bab Populer