The Mafia Don's Vain Regret
299 Views · Ongoing · Daisy Swift
My husband, the terrifying Mafia Don, dropped fifteen million dollars on a luxury yacht just to throw a lavish, high-profile birthday celebration for his precious first love.
And today marks exactly seven days since I died of an infection in a Detroit slum, simply because I couldn't scrape together a few cents for antibiotics.
At the banquet, an oblivious guest tactlessly brought up my name.
Alessandro dialed my number for the first time in five years.
"Genevieve, if you've suffered enough, crawl back here and beg Elena for forgiveness."
That is, until the estate doors were violently shoved open.
A scavenger walked in, leading a little boy whose face was an eighty-percent match to Alessandro's.
And today marks exactly seven days since I died of an infection in a Detroit slum, simply because I couldn't scrape together a few cents for antibiotics.
At the banquet, an oblivious guest tactlessly brought up my name.
Alessandro dialed my number for the first time in five years.
"Genevieve, if you've suffered enough, crawl back here and beg Elena for forgiveness."
That is, until the estate doors were violently shoved open.
A scavenger walked in, leading a little boy whose face was an eighty-percent match to Alessandro's.

















































