THE LITTLE GIRL ASKED TO SIT WITH A STRANGER—BUT HER MOTHER NEVER EXPECTED THE MAFIA BOSS TO RECOGNIZE HER FACE

“Clara, is Lily mine?”

Her hand jerked once around the cup.

Then she set it down too carefully.

The silence lasted three breaths too long.

“No,” she said. “She isn’t.”

“Clara.”

“Her father’s name was David. We were together right after you and I ended. He died in a car accident before she was born.”

Damen let his eyes rest on her face.

He had been read by continue reading …