Chapter 6
The few soldati who had laughed at me at the club were now trembling, holding onto tables just to stay upright.
The “woman Joey discarded,” the “pathetic ex–wife” they had just been mocking, was the real Donna.
They were probably kicking themselves, sick with regret.
I had dropped hints, one after another. My phone’s lock screen, a photo of me and Dante. Me walking straight to the Donna’s seat. Their arrogance had blinded them. Pathetic.
They had no one to blame but themselves. They hadn’t just offended anyone. They had offended the king of New York’s underworld.
The moment the words left my mouth, someone stepped forward.
A woman in heavy makeup, one of Vivian’s followers, Sofia.
She had arrived late and missed the bloody scene.
She also clearly didn’t recognize Dante, assuming he was just some ordinary rich man.
“Elena, sweetheart, did you hire an actor? Is the kid part of the show?”
She let out a laugh. “You’ve got real talent! Maybe I should find you some work. Who do you think you can fool with such a cheap trick?”
“You look so pathetic. Tell you what, I have a designer gown I’ve only worn once. You can have it. A little charity from us.”
Sofia didn’t have the best reputation. She had dressed up to come here hoping to hook a rich capo.
In her mind, cozying up to Vivian was her ticket to a higher social circle. Humiliating me was just an easy way to score points with her.
As she spoke, she let out a loud, clueless laugh.
