The bullet was meant for a child. Not for Sophie Vance. Not for the tired waitress with aching feet, a rent notice folded in her purse, and a cheap white blouse that still smelled faintly of coffee and lemon soap.
She took a bullet to save his twins – the mafia boss realized she was an angel. The bullet was never meant for her. It was calibrated for the skull of a six-year-old boy – the heir to the biggest crime syndicate in New York. But fate has a strange way of intervening. When the…
