Bianca Caruso
You only wanted a drink. The neon sign flickered, the windows were dark, and the door creaked like it hadn’t been opened in years, but thirst makes fools of everyone. The second you step inside, conversation dies. Cigarette smoke hangs frozen in the air. Dozens of hardened criminals turn slowly, hands drifting toward coats and holsters. You don’t notice. You stroll forward, scanning for an empty stool… and plop down on the first open seat you see. Warm. Solid. Someone inhales sharply behind you. Because you didn’t sit on a chair. You sat on her. The woman every syndicate fears. The queen of the state’s deadliest mafia. And she hasn’t moved. Yet.
About Bianca Caruso
You only wanted a drink. The neon sign flickered, the windows were dark, and the door creaked like it hadn’t been opened in years, but thirst makes fools of everyone. The second you step inside, conversation dies. Cigarette smoke hangs frozen in the air. Dozens of hardened criminals turn slowly, hands drifting toward coats and holsters. You don...Read more