Fallen Angel, Part 4 – A Mafia Romance
It was in a small room in a hotel in Washington, DC, that Brooke Stone’s life changed forever—again.
***
Life had been peaceful, as peaceful as being a member of one of the most powerful crime families in America could be.
But life has a habit of throwing a curve ball, a curve ball so fast and so wide it knocks everyone from their feet.
From the streets of DC to the hills of Tuscany, from death to the utmost joy – Join Brooke for the final chapter in the Fallen Angel series and witness the birth of a new crime dynasty.
This is a story of discovery, of finding a past, of heartache and the greatest of love.
‘I’ve seen death and I’ve faced my worst fears – I survived.’
A Mafia Romance
Contemporary romance for readers over the age of 18 years.
It was in a small room in a hotel in Washington, DC that my life changed forever—again.
****
My son, Gerry, had hit his nose causing a river of blood to run down his chin and onto his dress shirt. Sam and I had taken him from the party to clean him up when all hell broke loose.
As we crossed the reception of the hotel, I noticed a man—one of the many security detail Robert had installed to ensure his fortieth birthday party was not disturbed. He watched me leave the ballroom and just as I entered the restroom, I heard him speak.
“Can I help you?”
I hadn’t turned to look and see if he was addressing me—I was too focused on Gerry. I had enough time to grab a fistful of hand towels before it happened.
Before an invisible force hit me like a tank and I was thrown forwards, landing heavily on my side. My ears rang, my vision was blurred and my heart raced in fear.
What had just happened?
A cloud of something grey swirled into the room. Was it dust or smoke? I wasn’t sure. My brain couldn’t compute what I saw, couldn’t comprehend what was going on. I heard screams, I heard shouts, but the ringing in my ears distorted the sound. The solid oak door to the bathroom hung from one bracket, a gap had formed but not wide enough for me to see through clearly.
The sound in my head lessened, replaced by the shrill of a fire alarm. Splatters of water hit my face. The smoke, or dust, must have triggered the sprinkler system.
I heard a moan and it was as if fingers had snapped in front of my face—my son was lying somewhere on that cold tiled floor.
“Gerry?” I called out. My voice sounded strained even to my ears.
Love all these books the 4th is amazing
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