Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“When would you like me to do that?” I snap. “Most of the time he doesn’t come home until the sun is coming up.”
“He’s dealing with business. It’s not something you can just march in on, Emmie.”
“Vic, whatever business he’s doing is interfering with my husband getting better and I’ve had enough.”
“I still think you should wait to talk to him, at home,” Vic grumbles, but you can tell he’s given up trying to force me into that action. I’m glad, although I can feel his irritation.
I let out a breath as we pull up to Antonio’s cemented drive. His home is massive, and the grand entryway is marked first and foremost by the beautiful stairs up to his home. I swear, it looks just like Italian marble.
I get out before Vic can open the door for me. I told him I wanted to be alone before we left. But did he listen? Hell, no. I get to the front door before Vic catches up. The door opens and Antonio is standing there with a knowing grin on his face.
“Emilia, this is a great surprise. You’re looking beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I mumble, crossing my arms at my chest.
“Why do I get the feeling that you aren’t here for a nice visit?” he says, his inky, dark eyes twinkling.
“Because I’m not,” I exhale. I’m looking for my husband.
“Niko? I’m honestly not sure where he is,” he shrugs.
“Then maybe I should come inside and take the place apart to find him,” I suggest, not falling for his bullshit. Although, to be fair, Antonio isn’t trying to disguise the fact that he’s lying. He seems almost happy that I’m here.
Antonio will scratch the side of his face as if he’s weighing his thoughts and shakes his head. “Are you sure Niko is making you happy?”
“Antonio—”
“I mean, I’m looking for a good woman.”
I let out an annoyed breath. “Have you tried E-harmony? I hear they get good results.”
He laughs at my joke and shakes his head. “Niko is a lucky son of a bitch,” he says, letting out a loud breath. All laughter is gone from that noise, however. “Believe it or not, cara, I was just about to call you.”
“You are? Is something wrong with Niko?”
“He’s hurting Emilia. He’s grieving Maxwell and the guilt he’s carrying is eating him up.”
I swallow hard. I know he’s been grieving my father, but obviously it’s much worse than I was aware of. “Antonio…”
“He’s trying to get satisfaction where none can be found,” he finally says, confusing the hell out of me.
“Can you tell me that again one more time in English?”
“I think you should go home. Niko wouldn’t want you to see him like this. Wait till tonight and talk to him about things,” Antonio suggests.
“That’s what I told her,” Vic adds, and I shoot him a dirty look.
“Antonio, I want to see my husband.”
“Somehow, I knew that would be your answer. He down in the dungeon, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“The dungeon?” I ask, wondering if Antonio can hear the trepidation in my voice.
“Victorio will take you. I’ll be in my office if you need me. Also, if Niko is pissed, I don’t know you’re here and Victorio fucked up by not keeping you home. I’m not involved.”
“Gee thanks, Boss.”
Antonio laughs as he walks away.
I fall in step as Victorio leads me to a stairway and we go downstairs a level. He turns to the right and opens a door. My frown deeps as he leads me through a garage which is huge and has at least fifteen vehicles inside of it. The place is so massive most people’s homes could sit down inside of it. There are four black Cadillac Escalades, three sports cars that range from a BMW to an Alfa Romero. I can see trucks and off roading vehicles too…
I snap my attention back to Vic when he leads me to the main back of the room and stands in from a massive shelf. I don’t understand why we are here. The shelf is full of car cleaning material—sponges, wax, leather cleaner and even glass cleaner.
Before I can question him, Vic reaches up under the light mounted on the shelf and pulls on something. Immediately, the shelf begins to move and slide back and it’s then I realize it’s not a shelf, but a door.
I follow Vic inside and we enter a large corridor with cement floors. As we continue, bright LED lighting overhead comes on. Vic has obviously been here before. He doesn’t even look around as he leads me deeper inside. Finally, the hall opens into what really looks like a dungeon—one used for torture.
Oh God…
Niko is standing in the middle of the room, covered in blood, and staring at a mangled mess of a body that is hanging from the ceiling. My steps stall as fear grips me. “Niko?” I whisper, my throat tight. I watch as his back stiffens, and he spins around to look at me. He’s standing there without a shirt. His body is covered in small spurts of blood. What used to be a white towel is his hand and he scrubs it over his face, before dropping it on the concrete floor.