Mafia's Lost Queen

They called me Canary. The kind of bird kept in a gilded cage, meant only to be admired. I had no past. No name. Only the collar Damien Vance had fastened around my throat, and this gold-trimmed room. For two years, I thought I would rot here. Until the blood-soaked man kicked down the door. Black suit. Snow-white collar splattered with blood that wasn't his. Eyes so red they looked ready to burn. He said he was my husband. But all I wanted was to back away. I didn't know him. I only knew I was afraid. He came toward me step by step and seized my wrist, his fingers trembling. "Seraphina." That name drove into the blankness of my mind like a needle. His eyes were red when he said, "I'm taking you home."