AVELINA’S POV
It is night again.
The day might have ended but the fire within me still burns. I lay awake in bed, listening to the movement in the other room. Allessandro’s Every sound means something — He seems restless, and for once so do i. The exhale of smoke sipping through my door, the clinking of his whiskey in a glass. Every sound i hear him make means something. the soft clink of glass, the faint exhale of smoke, the scratch of a chair leg on wood.
My aunt Lucia is somewhere out there plotting with Orlando. Blood ties really means nothing in the mafia world. And revenge?
Revenge is thicker than blood.
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Sleep really doesn’t come easy, but when it does it is never kind.
I sit by the window, the room fades t
