
Ashes of Love the Mafia Don‘ s Regret
On our daughter’s seventh birthday, my husband was at a prenatal checkup with his mistress. While he rained rose petals from a helicopter for her, I was signing a cremation certificate. He offered me three million dollars to hand over custody, unaware that the "Anna" he wanted was already in a stone urn on the conference table. "The last thing she asked was: 'Why won't Daddy come see me?'" I whispered as his world shattered. He chose the killer over his own blood, and now, I will make sure he loses everything—his heir, his mistress, and his soul.































































