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

fragile, beautiful things.”

Ice flooded Willow’s veins.

This was not a stranger.

This was a message.

She scanned without moving her head.

Marcus was seventy yards away near a hot dog stand, arguing with a man who had “accidentally” spilled a drink down his jacket.

A distraction.

One guard was blocked by a sudden tourist group.

The other was out of sight.

They continue reading …