Owned By My Mafia Brother-in-law
Papers fluttered out, photographs spilling onto the surface like pieces of a shattered truth.
"My daughter is Anastasia Russo, and I have the proof to back it up," Rossie said, her voice steady but laced with the kind of quiet fury that matched my grandfather’s.
I stepped forward instinctively, my hands clenched into fists, ready to drag her out of here. She had no right to come in here, stirring up everything we had worked to rebuild. My family—my life—was on the line, and I was ready to shut it all down. But before I could reach her, Rossie spoke again, her voice ringing out with a clarity that made everyone in the room stop and listen.
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