I sat alone in my office, staring into the dark depths of the coffee mug in my hand. Layla’s words from the night before still echoed in my mind, reverberating in my skull in a way that unsettled me more than I cared to admit.
Had I truly thought that by choosing me, she would fit seamlessly into the mold of this life? Or was I more bothered by the idea that I’d stepped back to my role as don and mob-lord without questioning it?
She was right. It was hypocrisy, to kill with one hand and embrace a doctor with the other. To take the lives of other men’s children while I planned for the future of my own. To raise my only son as a killer.
I should expect nothing less than for Layla to balk at the dichotomy of our two worlds. I should have balked, too.
I leaned back in my chair, abandoning
