Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“Don’t I?” he asks, leaning in.
“All right, hotshot. What’s your impression of me then?” Part of me wonders how much I’ll regret asking him that question—as if I care what he thinks of me—but I do like to challenge and prove someone wrong.
“You like to win in all aspects of life. You aren’t one to divulge too much of your personal life, and Angel can attest to that. You don’t ask too many questions unless you require the correct answer. I know I make you nervous.”
I roll my eyes at that and take another mouthful, but he continues. “Your lip twitches when you look at me like it’s torn between kissing me and yelling profanities.” I stare at him. “You just did it again.” And now I’m self-conscious. This arrogant, cocky bastard. He picks up his glass and lifts it to his lips. “Do you want to know about me?”
“Not particularly,” I answer.
But he proceeds to tell me anyway. “I wasn’t chosen for this job. I was born into it. From early on, I was molded to be who I am today. Trained and taught to be what I represent.”
“And what is that?”
“Power. Obedience. And profit.”
“Classic kingpin,” I mock. “Big opinion of yourself and all.”
He slowly leans back and assesses me. I doubt many sound off to him like this, and I wonder if my determination to be free of this life makes me lash out. Or maybe it’s my inability to let any man in court or out of court try to hold reign over me.
“My father was proud, up until the day I killed him, that is.”
“I’m sorry, you what?” I say incredulously. Crue is deadly, matter-of-fact.
“Having the Monti name comes with burdens. Had you stayed around for your own duties, I’m sure you might’ve understood.”
I begin to tap my sharp nail on the table, ready to jump across the surface and strangle this man to death.
He continues, “My father’s downfall was that he polished me as a blade so purposefully that when he noticed his men listening to me more than him, Monti name or not, he planned to kill both of his heirs. He was a man not ready to give up his throne when it was already mine.”
“I don’t believe you,” I deny openly. I might have been away from the politics of my father’s world, but I know, above all, that family matters. Especially a son.
“It’s the truth, princess. I was raised on cruelty, not affection. Affection is something I’ve never needed and why I’ve come as far as I have. So that’s why I don’t need love. I only need marriage. Another contract. One that will equally benefit you.” He raises his glass in cheers before taking a sip.
Despite his arrogance, I can’t imagine what it must have been like to know that your own father put a hit out on you. My father might have been many things, but he would never have done anything like that.
“I feel sorry for you.”
He seems almost confused, that is if he could have such a feeling.
“Your mother didn’t love you,” he says matter-of-factly. Had I not crossed that realization a long time ago I might have almost been hurt. He’s telling me something I already know. My so-called mother has all the traits of a sociopath. She could pretend to care on the outside and mimic social skills so profusely that I’d almost consider her a con woman. But on the inside, she was nothing but a void. Self-serving in every way. Sure, it hurt when I found out about the sizable payments she’d receive from my father regularly for taking me in. But I’d learned to use her to get away from there. So if she profited in the process, good for her.
My father cares, though, despite his hard life and how feared he is. Maybe not to the extent other fathers do, but he still cares. He never showered me with love, though I’m sure Honey gets that. Not from him but from my stepmother. She adores Honey, who never really realizes how lucky she is.
“I didn’t need her love, just her support.”
“To leave the country,” he confirms.
“Yes.”
“You see, we are more alike than you think.”
“We aren’t.”
“If you say so.” He winks as the food arrives and then goes quiet as we eat. Then he looks over at my plate.
The moment passes and I can’t find myself organically able to ask about his mother, who had no mention.
“What do you need for us to get married?” he asks.
I huff out another frustrated breath. For some big-shot kingpin, he certainly sounds a lot like a parrot.
“Why are you so persistent?” I ask.
“Because my alternative is not what I’m after.”
“Alternative?”
“Yes. I’m to be married by thirty-four. It’s expected. Families are expecting a wedding and an heir.”