Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“Because I love him.” The admission tumbles from my lips with a powerful surge of air that deflates my chest. “Because I love him more than life, and I can’t bear the thought of living without him.”
The outburst having taken everything from me, I crumble.
Dante reaches for me, pity and concern churning in his brown eyes, but I hold up a hand, needing space. Needing distance. Needing to breathe.
“Anya,” he says in protest.
I hyperventilate like a person having a panic attack. “I can’t watch him waste away to nothing. Don’t you understand that? Saverio is too big for that.” I lean a hand on the wall for support, saying more to myself than to Dante, “He’s bigger than life.”
“Anya,” he says again.
I hear everything he doesn’t say in my name—the sadness, the sympathy, and the uselessness. The irony. Because Saverio De Luca doesn’t love me. And everyone knows.
I’m a fuck buddy, not a wife. People aren’t scared to touch me because they fear Saverio’s retaliation based on how much he loves me. No, they fear his revenge because I’m his possession, and Saverio cares more about his possessions than anything else.
I straighten with difficulty, feeling so much older than my age. So tired suddenly. “You have the inventory and the video. All I ask is that you do your part. I’ll get the money.”
“How?” he asks with that sad compassion in his expression and fear bleeding into his eyes.
“I have a plan.” I smile, not feeling it in my heart. “Don’t worry. I won’t let the men down.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
My choice of defense, of protecting what’s left of my shattered pride, is lashing out. “You were supposed to convince him of the new plan. By now, you should’ve worked out a strategy, damn you. If you weren’t up for it, you should’ve said so. I would’ve done it myself.”
Frustration laces his tone. “I tried, all right? Sav is biting but he’s not convinced.” Hurt flashes over his features. “But don’t worry. I did work out that strategy to the T. All we need is Sav’s go-ahead.”
Regretting my outburst, I sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just…”
“I know.” He shoves his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “I better get the list and the video to Sav. Hopefully, this will sway him.”
“I’m going ahead with the plan, Dante, whether Saverio buys into it or not.”
The set of his shoulders turns rigid. “I won’t betray Sav.”
“I’m doing this,” I say, my voice firm. “With or without you.”
“Goddamn, Anya,” he groans.
“We have a good shot at winning. That video makes all the difference. When Elena is gone next week, I’m going in. If I have to give the order myself, I’ll do it.” I add with an unmistakable warning, “And I won’t let you or Saverio stand in my way.”
He looks away, rubbing a hand over his nape.
“Try to convince Saverio because he’s not going to listen to me. It’s in everyone’s interest that he’s on board. Whatever the case, I’m not allowing you or Saverio to behave like stupid, honorable men who think all our problems will go away if you die.”
With that, I open the door and leave, not giving him a chance to reply.
In the office, I let out a shaky breath. The men are right. Without money, we can’t keep the creditors or our enemies at bay. Knowing that Saverio sold his beloved Corvette is like a splinter under my skin. The million he got for it bought a few weapons, but it’s not nearly enough to pay back our debt.
I gave the cashflow problem a lot of thought. I know what will happen to me when that loan shark comes after me. Benson Bennett is known for his cruelty and sadistic streak. He’s not a man who plays games. However, the rumor is that Mr. Bennett can’t resist a good bet.
Taking a burner phone from the drawer, I dial his number. Making sure the call can’t be traced is not so much for keeping my contact with Mr. Bennett a secret from the police than from my husband.
“Mrs. De Luca,” he says in a deep, velvety voice. “It’s always a pleasure.” A smile that comes across as threatening rather than smug carries on his words. “I assume you’re calling about a repayment arrangement.”
Infusing my tone with confidence I don’t feel, I say, “I have a proposal for you.”
He sounds amused. “I’m listening.”
“How do you feel about a bet?”
His excitement is evident. “What kind of bet?”
“Blackjack. You and me.”
“What are the stakes?” he asks, not bothering to hide his eagerness.
“If I win, you write off my debt and pay me an amount equal to my loan in cash.”
He laughs. “That’s a hefty prize.” He asks with obvious curiosity, “And if I win, what do I get?”