River
“Good evening, Mrs. Monroe.”
I tried to keep my tone polite, even though my heartbeat was pounding like a war drum. She stood in front of me—graceful, elegant, with piercing crystal-blue eyes that locked on me without a blink. Cold. Sharp. Like she could read me down to my bones.
This wasn’t just Ayla’s mother. She was the wife of the Corsetti family’s boss—the first lady of a mafia empire. Everyone in Sicily knew who she was.
She stared for a long moment before her lips curved the slightest bit. “So, you’re River Callahan?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I gave a small nod.
Her face didn’t move an inch. “Ayla, go inside. I need a word with Mr. Callahan. Alone.”
“Mom, please…” Ayla stepped forward, panic flickering in her eyes. “River’s my friend. Don’t pressure him.”
“Ayla.” Her mom’s voice
