115
Azzurra rose slowly, arms lifted in surrender.
“Drop the gun!” one of the men barked.
At least eight barrels were trained on them, and she knew every last one carried silver. Her fingers slackened, the weapon slipping from her hand to the floor. Instantly, the muzzles shifted toward Alarico.
“Dro...
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48. 50
49. 48
50. 49
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55. 55
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60. 60
61. 61
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64. 64
65. 65
66. 66
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70. 70
71. 71
72. 72
73. 73
74. 74
75. 75
76. 76
77. 77
78. 78
79. 79
80. 80
81. 81
82. 82
83. 83
84. 84
85. 85
86. 86
87. 87
88. 88
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90. 90
91. 91
92. 92
93. 93
94. 94
95. 95
96. 96
97. 97
98. 98
99. 99
100. 100
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103. 103
104. 104
105. 105
106. 106
107. 107
108. 108
109. 109
110. 110
111. 111
112. 112
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114. 114
115. 115
116. 116
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120. 120
121. 121
122. 122
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131. 131
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141. Epilogue
142. 142
143. 143
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