PREGNANT CASHIER’S HUSBAND DESTROYED HER PHONE SO SHE COULDN’T CALL FOR HELP—HE HAD NO IDEA A MAFIA BOSS WAS WATCHING FROM AISLE THREE

“You call this number,” he said, “and someone answers. Any hour.”

Elena stared at it.

“I don’t even know your name.”

“Vincent.”

“Vincent what?”

His gaze stayed on hers.

Behind him, the delivery driver whispered,

“Oh, God.”

Vincent never looked away from Elena.

“Moretti.”

She knew the name.

Everyone on the east side knew the name, whether they admitted it or not.continue reading …