Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 174(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 116(@300wpm)
He reaches out and grabs my arm to stop me again. “Actually, the boss has called it a day. I’m taking you to the house.”
“Oh, okay.” This time he releases my arm, and we walk on. Alessio doesn’t look at or speak to me again until we’ve entered the house.
“Get your things so we can go,” he says through clenched teeth. He’s going to need a trip to the dentist to handle the cracks he’s made since I’ve met him.
“Actually, Alessio, I need you to check on the warehouse. I’ll drive Ms. Beaman back to your home.” I look at Mr. Conti, who is dressed in a full suit this time and then up at Alessio, who looks less than pleased about this idea. Somehow that scares me.
“I can take myself back,” I insist. Does Mr. Conti plan on hurting me?
“Do you like your job?” Mr. Conti asks me, tilting his head just slightly, voice completely controlled.
“Yes, sir.” There’s the reason I fear him. His presence screams it: power, danger. I feel it with the other two, but there’s a softness that doesn’t seem to be present with Mr. Conti.
“If you want to keep it, you will do what you’re told.”
Alessio stiffens next to me, wanting to do something or maybe say something, but he doesn’t.
“Get your things and be here in two minutes.”
I nod and do what he says, and return. Alessio isn’t anywhere around, and I truly hate the way that makes me feel. It’s as if someone has hit me painfully in the chest. Am I mistaken about his jealousy? “Come on.”
The moment we’re in the car and Mr. Conti pulls out of the main driveway, he says, “Ms. Beaman, I must question you, and if you wish to make it through the next day, you’ll answer my questions without hesitation.”
I swallow the lump in my throat before answering with a barely audible, “Yes, sir.”
“Are you working with the cops?” he asks bluntly and doesn’t bother to look my way as he focuses on the path down to Alessio’s home.
“What?” That’s way out of left field and takes me by surprise. I thought this would be about the cat or if I stole something from the house, which I haven’t.
“Answer my fucking question,” he repeats, never raising his voice, but that menacing command still remains.
“No, of course not. Am I even old enough to work with the cops? I’m only eighteen.” He shakes his head, and I could swear his lips are slightly upturned in a smirk as if he wants to laugh, but he doesn’t.
“I pulled your file, not just the shitty one the agency provides, but a deeper report, which I should have pulled sooner. Your father had been a Chicago police officer before your parents’ deaths.” He says it as if it’s a mark against my character.
I’m truly offended and let him know, which I’m sure isn’t freaking smart, but I can’t stop my mouth. “Yeah, well. What does that have to do with anything?”
“Your sister graduated with a degree in criminal justice from community college over the weekend, and you just happened to take a job working for me.” The accusations keep coming, and yet I’ve done nothing wrong.
“Again, I fail to see what this has to do with me. I didn’t even know what you did for a living when I took the job. I still technically don’t know the details, but I’m getting a feeling that it’s less than reputable if you’re worried about the cops.”
“Bullshit.”
“For real. I’m not lying. I really don’t know anything about you or your company business. I clean your house and keep my mouth shut. I’ve only been here a week today.” He looks at me for a brief moment, trying to puzzle me out. “My sister doesn’t even know who I work for in the first place. She’s been bugging me for more details, but I haven’t told her because she’ll get worried.”
“Why would you think she’d be worried if you didn’t know who I was?” He cocks a brow, thinking he’s beaten me in a match of wits, but he just doesn’t understand a woman’s thoughts.
“Because it’s in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of men. She’s worried I’ll be sexually violated.”
His mouth forms a surprised “O” and that answer seems to satisfy him.
My phone rings, and it’s May. Her photo comes up. He practically loses his breath and then grunts. “Answer it and put it on speaker.” He pulls up to the house and puts it in park.
“Don’t hurt her,” I plead. He rolls his eyes as if my request is ridiculous.
“Hey, girl. Those kittens were adorable,” she says when I answer.
“Right. I wish we could have one, but the apartment’s too small, and are landlord is a prick.”
“Totally true.”
“Are you home?” I ask.