"I never imagined you'd have the nerve to disrespect Selene like that. Not an ounce of dignity befitting a Godfather's wife. Keep this up, and you'll regret it."
"Drop the attitude and apologize. Now."
I stared at that cold line of text on the screen and felt nothing but bitter amusement. My fingertips pressed down hard, snapping the SIM card clean in half. I tossed the pieces into an airport trash can, along with five years of delusion and devotion.
Meanwhile, back at The Castle in Sicily, the private jewelry vault shimmered with the glow of gemstones and the rich aroma of wine. Samuel was helping Selene appraise a shipment of rare uncut stones, his fingers curled around a glass of red, about to pour for her, when his private phone erupted in a shrill, urgent ring.
"Godfather Rowe, your wife is gone! She left the private hospital before dawn. There was a document on the nightstand. You need to see it immediately." The subordinate's voice crackled through the receiver, barely holding together.