His Mistress Killed My Baby, So I Killed His Throne

After I lost the child, I often lay awake until the sky went gray at the windows of the Falcone estate, and my condition kept getting worse.

My husband took me to a specialist the Family kept on retainer, a quiet man in a quiet office, who said it was the grief of a lost pregnancy settling into something darker.

"How is it treated?"

"Plenty of company from family—"

The doctor hadn't finished when Salvatore Falcone's phone started buzzing against the polished table.

I saw his little courier's photo light up the screen.