Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58449 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58449 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
He leaned forward and steepled his fingers. “Are you questioning my decisions, Ewan?” he asked slowly.
“Yes, sir,” I said. “I’m wondering why you’re doing this, when you know how I feel.”
“There’s only so much money to be made,” the Don said. “New markets are necessary if we’re going to keep growing.”
“Then maybe we shouldn’t grow,” I said sharper than I’d intended.
“Careful,” Dean said.
The Don held up a hand. “It’s all right, Dean,” he said. “Ewan is passionate about this topic. Everyone knows it. And yet it’s strange that you’d be willing to marry the daughter of the most notorious sex trafficker in the city.”
I took a deep breath and let it out. Tara looked at me with big, round eyes, and I smiled at her slightly and nodded.
“Nobody chooses their parents,” I said. “I know I didn’t. I can’t hold the sins of her father against her, just as much as I won’t hold the sins of my father against myself.”
“Well said,” the Don replied. “But it doesn’t change a thing. I plan on entering into the business, Ewan, and I expect you to support me.”
I clenched my jaw tight. “I won’t do that,” I said.
“Ewan,” Dean said. “Not now. We’ll talk about this.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “If it’s a choice between being involved in an expanding sex trade, and leaving the family, then I’ll leave. That’s the choice you’ll have to make, Don Valentino. I’ve made up my mind.”
“I raised you like a son,” the Don said, hissing with rage. “And you think you can give me an ultimatum about my own business?”
I turned my back on him, on the man I used to look up to, now old and frail and half dead, and walked to the door. Tara followed quickly.
“Think about what you’re doing,” the Don said. “Think about it, Ewan.”
I didn’t reply. I hung my head and left, with Tara on my heels.
We didn’t speak as we walked back into the foyer, then out to the car. I sat behind the wheel and didn’t move.
“Are you okay?” she asked quietly, and touched my wrist with her fingertips.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I’ll be okay.”
“What are you going to do?”
I started the car and sucked in some air. “I’m going to kill Colm Healy,” I said. “And then I’ll figure everything else out later.”
She stared at me with surprise, but it slowly melted away as she leaned against my shoulder. I drove away from the Don, my mind already made up. I’ll kill the bastard Colm, and that might be my last act as a member of the Valentino family.
But at least I’d go out on top.
20
Tara
Night hung like a noose around the neighborhood. The streetlights were out and we sat in heavy dark in Ewan’s car with the windows rolled down. Humidity leaked in with each gust of warm air, and Ewan stared down the block at the house with the green shutters, sitting as still as a rock in a river.
“You don’t have to come with me,” he said quietly. “Might be better if you stayed here.”
“I don’t want to be left behind,” I said. “And I feel like I need to see this through.”
Ewan nodded slightly. I could barely see him in the dark. He was a shadow sitting across from me wearing black from head to toe. He took a gun from his waistband and checked it over, making sure it was loaded, before he pushed the door open.
“Stick close and be quiet,” he said, and began to walk down the street.
I hurried to follow. The neighborhood was still and dead. Half the houses had no lights on, and we walked past bushes and hedges, sticking to the shadows. Ewan motioned for a stop when we got close to Colm’s house, and pointed out a set of motion detecting lights on the side of the house. He nodded at me, and we went the long way, along the neighborhood’s driveway, then shimmied through the bushes and came out in Colm’s back yard.
The grass was manicured. A grill sat on a small patio with several metal chairs and a big, oval table. I tried to picture people sitting out there, grilling and laughing, but couldn’t. Ewan approached the back door, tried it, but it was locked. He slipped a pick set out from his pocket and set to work on the doorknob.
It took longer than I expected and every sound set my heart racing. I felt almost dizzy when a neighbor’s dog barked and a car rolled along with its high beams on. Eventually he finished and began on the bolt, which took another few minutes. When it was done, he slipped the picks away, and quietly pulled open the door.
The kitchen was spotless if a little empty. There wasn’t much in terms of decoration or personality, but it was sparkling clean. The drainboard had dishes drying, and a single empty glass sat on the table. The floors were tile, and the countertops granite, and I guessed this was the nicest kitchen on the block. He’d clearly redone it recently.