Layla
“Isn’t it?”
Aldo responded by merely shooting me a glare.
For a long time, I truly wondered who I was speaking to...
The man that was instant on having this pointless conversation—was this Vasco Conti, the warm, kind-hearted man who stole my heart all those years ago? Or was I speaking to Aldo Marcello, the ruthless don of the Marcello family? Or was I, perhaps, talking to my husband?
It was hard to tell, honestly. Aldo’s movements and words were hesitant, yet I could tell that he was pushing to have a real conversation. He wanted answers that only I had, which made me seriously take into consideration the identity of the man in front of me.
“You can lie to everyone else, but not me,” I said coldly. “You want to know what Agent Carter said to me during that bullshit interrog
