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... glass and swallowing the rest of the whiskey in one go. The alcohol burned a clean, familiar line down his throat.

Vee went still. "What next?" she asked.

"Patience, bambola. Patience." He set the empty glass down. "You are in the mafia now. You need to learn patience, or your blood pressure will be through the roof before you’re thirty."

Vee forced herself to sit back, to breathe, to unclench her fists. If Luca said he had it handled, she should believe him. He was capa ...

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