Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 98892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 494(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Her green eyes come to mine, and for the first time in history—I mean it—ever—she has nothing to say. No response.
I hook my fingers around her belt loops and force her closer again. Dragging my lips over hers, I whisper, “That’s why. Now? Guess who gains the reign over not only les beaux voyous, but is rightfully safe from the Italians and can send their asses back to a different state?”
When her eyes shoot up to mine, before falling to my mouth, I make sure to flash her a grin.
“You.”
She shakes her head so fast parts of her hair fall out of the knot it’s in. “No! Don’t want it.”
“Knew you’d say that, so did your father.” I step back, grabbing her hand. “Which is exactly why he will be choosing their new capo, who just so happens to be an old friend of ours.”
“So, I was a fucking transaction between men and their big-dick-growing competition?”
I kiss her on the other side of her palm. “Sorry, baby.”
She growls, and if we weren’t in a rush right now, I’d fuck the anger out of her.
“Now where are we going?” she whines but follows me closely by the click of her heels until we head out the front doors.
“You’re going to meet the bitch who birthed you.”
Being back in Niko’s house is tightening my weaknesses. Ma, Fanta, and Lester are all seated around the living room with me, with Ares on Ma’s lap.
I stare at her. Even though we haven’t said anything to one another, I know she has a lot to say to me, as I do to her. I learned just minutes ago that she didn’t know about Ares like Niko has all along.
“You and I will have words,” she says, squeezing Ares tighter into her chest.
“No,” I say calmly, keeping my shoulders straight. “We won’t, because we’re even.” I watch as shock passes over her features before a small smile curves on the corner of her mouth.
“That’s my girl.” She’s actually proud.
Being back in this house doesn’t feel as weird as it should. As big and modern as it is, there’s a comfort that comes from being in a home that is owned by someone you love. Niko still isn’t back from getting my birth mother ready for this chat, and the longer I sit here, the angstier I become.
“Hey!” Ma calls out from her chair. “You settle that shit down before you go in there, baby. That bitch will sense your anxiety like a fucking sniffer dog at an airport, and the bitch will attempt to bite while she’s there.”
My racing heart slightly calms as I run my palms down my jeans. I don’t know if that’s something I can control.
“This is for you, not her.”
I nod just as Nik appears at the entry that separates the living room to the main foyer.
“Come on.” He puts his hand out for me, and I slowly stand, wrapping my fingers around his.
He directs me down the hallway, into his office, the same one with all the weapons. Pulling out a key, he brings it to the wall where all the guns hang. A clicking sound rings through the air before a door parts and opens out onto a set of stairs that step down into darkness.
I look up at Niko. My comfort, even after all of these years.
He squeezes my hand. “If you don’t wanna do this, you don’t have to. I can handle her, and you don’t have to think about her ever again.”
I shake my head. “No. It’s okay. I need this.” I think.
Now that the time is here, I’m not sure what it is that I’m here for. What did I want to ask her? Did I even want to ask her anything, or was this more about me needing a reminder that it was a good thing she wasn’t part of my life? Or was it me not believing Niko and needing to hear her confess to working with Luca and his father?
By the time a hundred different questions have zipped through my mind, we have already hit the bottom of the stairwell, and although it looks dark from the top, there is a single light that hangs in the center. Clear walls and doors cut off into three cells, and in each one are a bench chair, a toilet, and a sink. There are little doors that are drilled into the bigger doors, where I guess you feed food through.
I see her straight away, in the first cell and lying on her back on the clear bench. She’s skinny, with an arm slung over her eyes and one leg raised up slightly.
“Ah, so she is here.” As soon as she talks, recognition slams into me harder than any truth ever has.
She is definitely the woman from the podcast.