Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 35044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
That thought has another grin stretching wide over my face as I roll the window back down and relax into the driver’s seat. It’s a long drive back to Breakers Flats, so I sure hope little Roni Russo is comfortable in the trunk back there.
She’s such a fucking firecracker. She always has been, thinking that she’s stronger than what she is. Her dickhead brother let her believe that when she was a kid and it was the biggest mistake he ever made. Sometimes being honest with yourself is a lot safer than pretending you’re not scared. She puts on a brave face when deep down, she’s never been so terrified. Especially when it comes to me.
Roni used to be my girl back in high school. She was the first chick I ever gave myself to, but because our fathers were the leaders of opposing gangs, it was impossible. Not a soul knew about us, but now that Russo is gone and I’m in fucking charge, things will be changing. Veronica Russo won’t be hiding from me anymore. As of now, she’s mine.
The next few weeks will be interesting though, not only am I going to have to deal with Roni, but I’ll be figuring out how to get myself back on top without my dumb ass getting arrested and thrown back in prison. Hell, I might even have to start going by an alias to keep myself hidden. Getting back on top is going to be the hardest thing I’ll ever do, especially with Christian Russo leading the Wolves, but my men are loyal. They’ll follow me to the ends of the earth.
I get thirty minutes out from Breakers Flats—completely lost in my thoughts of exactly how I’m going to play this—when a loud banging comes from the trunk.
A wide, excited smile stretches across my face.
It’s fucking showtime.
Pissed off groans and grunts come from the trunk before I hear her kicking against the back seat of the car in desperation. But she won’t be getting out of there, not until I allow her.
The banging only gets louder, and I can’t help but call out. “Everything alright back there?”
“FUCK YOU, DOMINIC GARCIA. YOU CAN SUCK MY DICK. I HATE YOU.”
Fuck, I love it when she talks dirty. It’s like being pulled straight back to high school. It’s not the first time she’s told me to suck her dick and I’m sure as fuck that it won’t be the last. Though, a chick like Roni; if she actually had one, I’m sure it’d be fucking huge.
I yank hard on the steering wheel and pull into the next lane, chuckling as I hear her tumbling around in the back. “What was that, baby? I didn’t quite hear you.”
“FUCK YOU.” Her screech comes out in a high-pitched squeal that I don’t think I’ve ever heard another human make before. Is that shit even natural? “LET ME OUT OF THIS GODDAMN TRUNK.”
“No can do, baby,” I tell her. “But don’t worry. I won’t keep you locked up in there much longer.”
“You’re a fucking sick psychopath, Dominic. You need therapy.”
There’s a loud bang against the backseat, and I can’t help but glance up in the rearview mirror, double-checking that she didn’t get herself free. I wouldn’t put it past her; she’s always managed to evade me. Why should now be any different? Seeing that she didn’t get far, I focus back on the highway. “Did your fancy psychology degree tell you that? Or are you going off personal experience?”
“Both,” she grunts before four more loud bangs and thumps echo through the car. “Christian is going to kill you for this,” she snaps. “Just wait until he gets his hands on you.”
I laugh, letting her hear the sinister tone in my voice. “And how’s he even going to know? Tell me, baby, when was the last time you called him? I know I sure as shit haven’t spoken to him recently.”
She falls quiet. She knows I’m right. He may be the leader of the Wolves, and sure, I’ll give the fucker credit, he’s turned all their bullshit around, but he’ll never get his hands on me. Hell, the only way anyone is ever going to find out about this is through me, and I’ll be keeping this little secret on the down-low.
No more screeches, protests, or loathing comes from the trunk, and as I listen to the muffled noises of her trying to break free, I can't help but think back on her brother.
Christian Russo is a dick, yet despite being the leader of the Wolves and stepping right into his father's tainted footsteps, I can’t find it in me to hate him. He did what anyone of us would have done, and he did it while somehow making himself out to be some kind of hero.
I knew shit was going to hit the fucking fan the second Ocean handed over the leadership to Christian. She trusted him blindly, and while she should have trusted me instead, I can’t seem to fault her.