Sonja Cerrato

There are rules for being best friends with a mafia princess. For three years, I followed the rules. Vicky and I met once a week at the diner where I worked. I was her slice of normalcy; she was the one person in whom I could confide. It might have been unconventional, but it worked for us. One night, all hell broke loose, and I got caught up in a battle of bloodshed where we almost lost our lives. I ended up face-to-face with Vicky's dangerous older brothers: Anthony, William, and Nicholas Civella - the made men of the Kansas City Mob.

I hated fire. I hated how the smoke wrapped around my naked body, stinging my skin with defiant embers. I hated the smell of burnt flesh, the ashes heavy on my tongue, my charred soul like splinters deep in my chest. She’s dead, Juliet. There’s nothing else you can do.