The Don’s Deadly Game

In our seven years of marriage, Don Zack Torrino betrayed me piece by piece.

It started when assassin Aurora saved him during a Russian mafia shootout. From then on, he gripped my waist, crying out her name as he rode me.

Then, to appease her, he forced me—while pregnant—to hold vigil all night in a frigid morgue. The cold induced a miscarriage.

Now, Aurora needed a cornea transplant and wanted to see a “show” before going blind. Zack pushed my asthmatic mother into an underground fighting pit.

“Don’t worry, those fighters are my men putting on an act,” he said.

“Remember, Naia, this is the price for making Aurora wait an extra day.”

But when my mother was pushed into that blood-soaked arena, those “actors” raised real, sharpened swords.

“Give her your corneas, and everything goes back to normal.”

But I knew, Zack, that for us, there was no going back.