His Lost Little Lady
They shared a look, and Dad said in a low, firm voice, "That punk, Tristan, couldn't hold on to you after all. All the better. A Jovine answers to no one."
Mom held my hand, her voice edged with steel. "Good. Divorce him. No one gets to push around a Jovine. I'll make sure he pays for it, sooner or later."
To help me move on quickly and to reinforce the alliance between the mafia families, Mom arranged for me to meet Zeke Rosenfeld, the heir to the Eloria Mafia.
Zeke and I grew up together. Over the past few years, the Rosenfelds had been expanding the family's business overseas. By now, their reach was no small thing.