NO ONE COULD HANDLE THE MAFIA BOSS’S DAUGHTER—UNTIL A WAITRESS WALKED INTO THE CHAOS AND DID THE IMPOSSIBLE

understood.

“It’s a beautiful kite.”

The voice was smooth, cultured, and unfamiliar.

Willow did not startle, but every muscle in her body pulled tight.

An older man had taken a seat at the far end of her bench. He wore a tan linen suit and held a silver-tipped walking cane between his knees. Silver hair. Pale blue eyes.

He was not looking at Willow.

He was continue reading …