She stirs in me something I thuoght I'd long ago snuffed out: desire. I murdered her abductor, but I'm no hero. I'm the monster they call the Angel of Death, yet she makes me feel like a man again. My hidden little secret in the cellar is a prize I won't be throwing away. Her luscious lips and sweet curves promise that hiding from the mafia just got a lot more exciting. I'm not going anywhere. And neither is she.