The Rival Don's Treasured Second Chance

My husband, the King of New York's underworld, declined my call for the ninety-ninth time just as my brother's heart monitor flatlined.

He claimed he was in a life-or-death sit-down with the Commission.

But moments after my brother took his last breath, I saw his mistress's Instagram post.

The "meeting" was an emergency C-section for her Persian cat.

My brother was dead because a mistress's pet needed the surgeon Dante had promised to send for him.

The betrayal didn't stop there.

When our car was T-boned days later, Dante didn't pull me from the wreckage.