Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Oh, shit.
I fight the roll of my eyes.
Goddamn it, Ling.
I’m sure Alejandra has noticed the way Ling and Dino are looking at each other. I sneak a look down to her and what I see makes my body still.
Alejandra Gambino, daughter of the ruthless Eduardo Castillo, wife of accused murderer Dino Gambino, looks up at me wide-eyed, a soft pink blush covering her cheeks. All I can do is watch as her lips part slightly. Blinking, her blush sharpens as her eyes fly to my chest. “I’m sorry. Have we met?”
Those words snap Dino and Ling’s bubble. Dino glowers at me. “You two have met before?”
Brown. Her eyes are a soft brown. Doe eyes. It figures. Soft, like the rest of her, the lilt of her voice and her shiny hair.
“No.” It pains me to do it, but I pull my gaze away from her to look up at her husband. “We haven’t.”
Her voice trembles. “You look so familiar.”
My eyes never leaving Dino, I smile tauntingly. “I guess I just have one of those faces.”
There’s something about a guy who tries so hard to be threatening that makes him just the opposite.
I don’t fear men like Dino. I put bullets in them.
Miguel cuts in with, “We’re still waiting on Mendoza and Di Marco. Please, join me for a drink.” Holding out his arm, Ling takes it eagerly while Alejandra politely declines. “Please excuse me. I’m a little out of sorts today. I think I’d like to rest.” Looking up at her husband, she adds, “I’ll be in my room if you need me.”
Dino’s brow creases as he looks at his wife in obvious concern. “You want me to come up?”
She waves him off. “I’ll be better after I’ve slept.” Stepping closer, she stands on her tiptoes and kisses his cheek. “Don’t worry. I’m fine.”
Alejandra looks up at Dino so lovingly that my chest aches, and I have to fight the urge to kick him in the balls. As Alejandra makes her way up the stairs, Ling removes herself from Miguel’s arm and attaches herself to Dino. “Tell me about yourself, Mr. Gambino.”
Wife forgotten, Dino lowers his voice and utters, “I’m more interested in you, Ms. Nguyen.” As they move toward the bar, Dino suddenly notices that neither Miguel nor I are following. “Coming?”
Miguel nods. “I need to speak with Julius privately.” He looks down at the woman by Dino’s side. “Would you mind entertaining Ling for a few minutes?”
A slow smile spreads across Dino’s face. “No problem.”
As soon as they’re out of hearing distance, Miguel turns to me, and whispers, “Now’s your only chance. Up the stairs, third door on the right. Alejandra’s room. Make it quick. Dino will check on her soon.”
Looking past Miguel to where Ling and Dino stand, I notice Ling’s hand resting on Dino’s chest as she speaks to him. “Ling can hold him off.”
Miguel turns to face them, scowling, and mutters, “And here I thought we had something special.”
I like this man. Fighting my smile, I slap him on the shoulder. “It’s nothing personal, Miguel.”
Ling moves closer to Dino. Standing almost flush to his body, her lips move slowly, seductively, and Dino can’t tear his eyes off them. Sometimes, I wonder what she says to men to get them to look at her like that, but then I remember that it’s probably best that I don’t know. As I back away toward the stairs, I hear Miguel sigh. “I definitely need one of those.”
Taking the stairs two at a time, I find myself standing in front of Alejandra Gambino’s childhood bedroom. Before my mind can wander down places it shouldn’t, I knock. Shuffling on the other side of the door lets me know she’s awake. Opening the door, she mutters, “Dino, I can’t rest when you check up on me every two sec—” A look of surprise crosses her face when she realizes I am indeed not the asshole she calls a husband. “Oh. Hello. Are you lost?”
It’s official business now. Game face on. “Mrs. Gambino, I’ve been called here today because of the death of Raul Mendoza.”
Her guarded expression fails her, and sadness seeps through, showing immediate understanding. “Of course.” She shrugs lightly. “But how can I help you? You’re better off speaking to my sister Veronica.”
She smiles regretfully as she attempts to close the door in my face. But I’m quicker than her. I push my foot into the gap in the door and nudge it open, letting myself into her room. She makes an indignant noise before placing her hands on her hips. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave now, Mr. Carter. I already told you I don’t know anything.”
I choose to ignore the soft voice. Instead, I walk the length of her room, touching things as I go. From her pure white bed sheets, now a little rumpled from having her lie on them, to the aged white-and-gold furniture, it suits her. The tall bookcase stocked with well-read classics. They’d have to be well read. The spines of them are disintegrating. Interestingly enough, newer paperback copies of the falling apart hardbacks sit on a bottom shelf. I turn to her, pointing to the books. “Why do you have two sets of each?”