The Don's Daughter's

Previously

…Marco’s past was no longer a distant echo; it was a roaring storm, crashing down on the present, threatening to engulf us all. And I, the Don’s daughter, was standing at the precipice, forced to witness the unraveling of everything I thought I knew. The gilded cage had been breached, not by an outside force, but by the ghosts of the past, and the man I loved was at the heart of it all. The echoes of those secrets were no longer whispers; they were a cacophony, and I was no longer content to simply listen. I had to understand. I had to know.