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Our Graveyard of Hate Novel Cover

Our Graveyard of Hate

To save Marco's life, she made a devastating sacrifice that ruined her reputation. Misunderstanding her actions, Marco retaliated with brutal vengeance, orchestrating her miscarriage and framing her father for execution to please his new lover, Isabella. But she didn't break; she fought back, matching his cruelty blow for blow. Three years later, Marco returns with a pregnant Isabella, publicly humiliating her. Yet, he forgets that by the laws of their underworld, she is no longer his victim—she is the Donna.
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Chapter 3

Seeing me stand there, utterly unfazed, Marco's face darkened.

"I'll let this go for tonight."

"But if anything happens to Isabella or the baby, I won't let you off the hook."

Look at him, playing the devoted husband. The sight was nauseating.

My voice was ice.

"Get out of my car."

Marco stared as if he'd misheard.

"What did you say?"

I didn't waste my breath. I simply glanced at the bodyguard standing behind me.

He understood immediately, stepping forward and yanking both Marco and Isabella out of the back seat.

The jolt of hitting the pavement shocked Isabella awake.

Marco was still reeling.

"Aurora, you've got some nerve, pulling a stunt like this on Falcone turf."

I let out a short, sharp laugh. "My nerve? Marco, have you forgotten who you're talking to?"

Of course, he hadn't.

His own father had warned him to tread carefully tonight. He was here representing a minor branch of the Family, nothing more.

But he never expected to see me.

And he certainly never expected me to touch Isabella.

That's what had shattered his composure.

But now, all he could think about was stopping this from becoming a bigger embarrassment for the family.

Just as Marco scrambled to his feet, my bodyguard moved to block him.

I gave Marco a dismissive glance and slipped into the car.

It was only then that he saw the license plate.

As he watched me settle into the Don's car, he shouted, his voice cracking.

"Get out of there! You have no right to be in that car."

What a joke.

As if I needed his permission.

Seeing me reach for the door handle, Marco lunged.

He shoved his hand into the closing door, ignoring the sharp pain.

"Aurora, get out! That's the Don's car—that's my uncle's car!"

He was so frantic he didn't even hear Isabella’s pained whimpers from the ground.

I looked at him, my patience worn thin.

"So?"

My nonchalance made him desperate.

"You don't know what my uncle is like. No one in Chicago dares to cross him. Don't go looking for trouble."

I didn't know who he thought he was fooling with this sudden act of concern, but the charade made my stomach churn.

"Let go. And get out of my sight."

Seeing my utter lack of remorse, Marco lost what little control he had left and reached in to pull me out.

"Aurora, I told you, this is Falcone territory. Here, you listen to me."

I leaned away from his grasping hand.

"Don't touch me."

Perhaps it was the venom in my tone or the undisguised disgust in my eyes.

Marco's hand froze, as if struck by a memory.

"Aurora, just… get out of the car first."

What made him think I would listen? I hadn't three years ago, and I certainly wouldn't now.

The mockery in my eyes must have been unmistakable.

Finally, tired of the farce, I kicked his hand away and slammed the door shut.

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