Reborn To Reclaim His Dying Bride

When the back-alley doctor told me the cancer in my stomach had spread and I had maybe weeks left, my hand faltered. The ceramic figurine—a gift from a lover five years gone—slipped and shattered against the floorboards.

Inside the broken clay was a stiff white card, stained at the corner with dried blood. A marker. One absolute favor from Silas Falcone, the most ruthless Don in New York's underworld.

Five years ago, his mother threatened my sister's life to force me out. On that same day, I learned my body was already dying.