Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 117010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 585(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117010 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 585(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
“For what?”
“For taking such good care of me, of us.”
It was only now that the excitement was over that the ramifications of Gabe finding Papa set in. Draco hasn’t said anything, but I’m sure at some point he’d question how Gabe even knew to go looking. It’s not something we’ve discussed with the kids, other than in passing. Oh, dear. Gabe met Athena; what did she say to him?
I felt sick panic rise up inside of me. Not even Draco knows the truth about that night. I’d embellished the story when I told it to him, too ashamed to share the real truth about that night. Even Papa has no idea that I'd dragged myself home that night, hurt and bleeding. The end result was the same after all, but all that had led up to it for me made it even worse in my mind.
Though we never bring it up, I remember well the story I’d told my husband, the same one I'd told Papa that I was alone in the cottage when I was attacked. Somehow, I’d built up that story in my mind; it made it easier to deal with the reality of what had truly happened. I may have felt some guilt for my part in it as well, knowing that I’d been a fool to trust Felice all those years ago. Some might even blame me for being there, though I had been tricked.
“What’s wrong?” I forgot he was holding me and that he knew me so well. My body had tensed up with my thoughts; now, I must evade his question. “Nothing, just tired. Let’s go to bed.” Who would’ve thought that I’d ever have the confidence to distract my husband with sex? I guess it’s a testament to how much I’ve grown because of his love and attention. As if reading my thoughts, Draco broached the subject first. “Who’s this nun who helped your father?”
GABRIEL
Grandpa fell in love with Sheila; I kid you not. I don’t think he’s ever seen a person of color before and treated her like some mythological Goddess, and of course, she was putty in his hands. Before we even got on the plane to head home, she was trying to teach him English, which is the family’s new favorite thing to witness.
She’s been a rock for Ma this whole time, and the bond between the two women was never more evident than now. Even though I doubt she knows why my Ma was going from bouts of joy to having her dad back in her life to moments of anxiety and something approaching fear, she never left her side. It’s no wonder that my family loves this woman the way we do.
A lot has happened in the last four days, which is how long it took Pop to get grandpa’s papers in order. Almost a miracle, but when you know who you know and all that. Anyway, that night after I left Pop, I’d gravitated to Gianna’s room. She was already in bed asleep, tired from the day out, and knowing Lancelot; he’d walked their feet off.
I sat on the bed beside her just to be close, I guess, and listened to her breathe. I played gently in her hair, light enough not to disturb her because my mind was in kill mode, and she didn’t need to see that. I’m surprised I’ve been able to keep my anger so well contained, to the point that not even Pop had noticed. I don’t hate; it’s too stressful an emotion and would take more out of me than the recipient.
But what I feel for Ricci and now his friends is something much darker. There is no emotion attached, so no chance of mercy or compassion for anyone involved; hate is an emotion, a bad one, but one, nonetheless. What I feel could be best described as inhuman, animalistic, primal. It’s crossed all boundaries between the light and the dark.
No way am I going to let anyone else destroy him, and death, a quick death like I’d anticipated, is too good for the likes of him. I already know pretty much everything about the Ricci family, so the groundwork was done there. I know that there’s tension in the family, especially between the brothers; the father is a bit disappointed in his chosen heir, and Ricci’s only claim to fame is his family name and what it affords him and his lifestyle.
I’ve already squashed one deal for him as a precursor, just for kicks and because I wanted to see him squirm. But now, that’s child’s play compared to what I’ve been contemplating since I boarded the plane to come back. The wife, Felice, I know as well because of her proximity to him, but now with the new information, I’ll have to do a deeper search on her as well as the other players.