The Don Killed My Baby, So I Buried His Empire

Eight months pregnant, I was pushed from the second-floor gallery of the Falcone estate. The blood wouldn't stop.

Dominic Falcone carried me to the Family's private clinic like a madman, dragging the best men in the city out of their beds to cut into me, and thank God, the baby was saved.

When I opened my eyes again, neither the baby nor Dominic was beside me.

I struggled up and hobbled around, searching everywhere.

And then, at the door of the cold room where the Family kept its dead, I overheard Dominic speaking low to the doctor.