My ex destroyed my food truck, so I stopped playing nice. With a propane tank, I took him and three kidnappers down. After I saved the girl, twenty black cars surrounded me.
She pointed to a devastatingly handsome man in a wheelchair. “Daddy, I found Mommy.”
He was Dominic Moretti—the Mafia Don judges feared. When we met, he offered me a contract: “Fifty thousand a month. Be my wife.”
I should have run. But she clung to my leg, and he added, “She wants Mommy. I want you.”
