Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
All I see is blood. I feel the bones in his face break beneath my fist.
It’s not enough.
Getting up, I grab my gun from Big Ricky, and aiming at the fucker’s head, I pull the trigger.
A pool of blood quickly forms beneath Romano’s head, and as I look down at his lifeless and swollen eyes, I finally feel a sense of relief.
I hand the weapon to Big Ricky again as he asks, “Do you feel better?”
“No, but it’s a start,” I mutter as I walk to the kitchen. I open a faucet and wash my hands, watching as the red water spirals down the drain.
“Want me to call the cleaners?”
I nod, my eyes still on my busted knuckles. “Yes. Have them dissolve the body and replace the floor.” I dry my hands on a dishcloth and turn to look at Big Ricky. “I want this fucking place cleaned from top to bottom for Vittoria.”
Walking out of the kitchen, I step over Romano’s body and head down the hallway. I check every room, and when I open the closets in the main bedroom, I say, “Clear out the fucker’s shit and remove any trace of him from this house.”
“Okay.”
As I head back down the hallway, I order, “Pay Damiano the five hundred thousand Romano owed him.”
“I’ll take care of it, boss.”
I stalk out of the house, and when I climb into the back of the SUV, Big Ricky asks, “Home?”
“Yeah.” I let out a deep breath.
Home. To my wife.
He hands me my jacket and gun before starting the engine, and as he drives away from the house, I dig my phone out of my pocket.
I open the screen and send a text to Damiano.
Angelo: Giorgio Romano is dead. His debt will be settled.
A moment later, his reply comes through.
Damiano: Thanks for the good news. How’s Vittoria doing?
Angelo: She’s better.
Damiano: Did she tell you what happened?
Angelo: My uncle tried to get rid of her. They struggled and went over the side of the balcony. He fell to his death.
Damiano: Jesus. Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.
Angelo: Thanks.
Big Ricky stops the SUV in front of the mansion, and when we climb out, he says, “I’ll take care of the body and house,” he reminds me. “And I’ll make the payment.”
“Thanks. When you’re done, take the rest of the day off. You need some rest.”
“Thanks, boss.”
We go our separate ways, and as I walk into the house, I hear someone chant, ‘Get low, get low. To the window. To the wall. Till the sweat drop down my balls.’
I come to a stop in the living room and mutter, “What the fuck are you watching?”
“The Proposal,” Tiny says with a grin. “My girl Sandra Bullock is in it.”
Vittoria sits up on the couch, then her eyes lock on my hands. “What happened?” She darts up, and forgetting that she’s only wearing my shirt, she rushes to me. “Did you get hurt?”
“You’re only wearing a shirt,” I growl.
“Don’t worry,” Tiny says. “My eyes are glued to the TV.”
Vittoria gives me a sheepish expression. “Oops.”
“Oops, my ass,” I mutter as I walk to the couch to grab the blanket. I wrap it around her shoulders, then tug her closer and press a possessive kiss to her mouth.
When I lift my head, she repeats her question from earlier, “What happened to your hands?”
I nod for her to follow me as I walk to the stairs, and once we’re in the bedroom, I take hold of her shoulders.
“How do you feel?”
“Fine.” She frowns at me. “Tell me what happened.”
Not wanting her to find out from someone else, I say, “I killed Giorgio.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh my God. Did he attack you? Are you okay?”
I let out a chuckle as I shake my head. “He didn’t attack me. The fucker doesn’t have the balls.” My expression grows serious again. “It was time he paid for what he did to you.” I move my hands to the sides of her neck and lean down. “I wasn’t going to let him live after the hell he put you through.”
I watch as she processes the news, and her eyebrows pinch together. “I understand.”
My gaze searches her as I ask, “Are you okay?”
She lets out a slow breath before saying, “Yes. I knew it would happen eventually, so I’m not surprised.”
“I’m having your house fixed up, and when it’s ready, we’ll go back so you can grab what you want to bring here.”
A smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “I’d like that very much.” She grips hold of my hand and pulls me to the bathroom. “Let me take care of your hands.”
“Hmm, I like the thought of you taking care of me.”
Vittoria pulls a small first aid kit from below the sink, and it has me saying, “I didn’t know we had a kit in our bathroom.”