Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106669 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 427(@250wpm)___ 356(@300wpm)
Nino shook his head with a chuckle, but then he became serious again and pressed our foreheads together. “Maybe you just need to let your anger out. We could do some fight training. I always feel better afterward.”
“Why not? It can’t hurt, can it?”
“It should hurt,” Nino said.
I shook my head. “Right.” Nino kissed me again, then pulled back. “Can we go now or do you have to stay for the bread?”
I checked it. It was done and only needed to cool. I quickly took the pan out of the oven before I followed Nino out of the kitchen.
“Banana bread is done,” I called as we passed the gaming room where Savio was working at the laptop. Maybe he’d enjoy a bite tonight. Greta sat beside him on the sofa like a gorgeous little doll and staring curiously at the screen, not the picture book on her lap. Nevio’s delighted screeching sounded outside followed by Remo’s deeper voice. He seemed to be chasing his son around the garden.
“I hope whatever you’re doing is meant for a child’s eyes,” Nino said to Savio.
Savio glanced up then to Greta. “Our betting stats. And it’s not like Greta can read anything. Right, doll-face?”
Greta looked at him with a crooked smile and my heart just melted.
“You’ve really grown on her,” I said softly.
Savio flashed Greta a grin. “I have a way with girls, don’t I?”
She only smiled. Nino stroked my back and I finally dragged my gaze away from them.
Savio put away his laptop and asked Greta, “Why don’t we check on that banana bread? Maybe I can sneak a piece into your mouth before your mom gets all bitchy because of a bit of sugar.”
“I heard that,” Serafina muttered as she came inside, dressed in a bikini, glaring at Savio. He shrugged.
“Sorry, doll-face, I did the best I could.” With a wave he walked off as Serafina picked up her daughter and kissed her rosy cheek.
She gave me an encouraging smile and I knew Remo had told her already, not that it would have stayed a secret long anyway.
“We’re off to the gym,” Nino said then he pulled me along, for which I was glad. I didn’t want to talk about the negative test again.
NINO
“Did you handle things in Sacramento?” Kiara asked as I steered the Tesla down the driveway.
“We found the men who gave Adamo the drugs, yes,” I said. Kiara nodded, regarding me with that quiet concern. She often worried how these acts of brutality affected me and maybe it was good that she thought they could. I ran my thumb over her knuckles.
“He hasn’t left the room. Remo didn’t let me visit him either.”
“You shouldn’t see him without one of us. In this stage of withdrawal, he might very well become violent to reach his goal.”
She shook her head. “Adamo wouldn’t hurt me.”
I looked pointedly at her upper arms and the fading bruises, and when Kiara followed my gaze she sighed. “He didn’t mean to.”
“And he wouldn’t meant to again either. He’d be single-mindedly focused on getting another fix. That’s dangerous. You won’t go near him without one of us, Kiara. That’s my last word on the matter.”
She nodded slowly. “How long will it take for him to become clean?”
“It’s hard to say. It depends on the person, on the severity of the addiction, on their understanding of the problem and determination to fight it. Willpower is the key.”
“Adamo’s got that. He’s a Falcone.”
I smiled, but it wasn’t associated with any uplifting emotions. “Willpower won’t be the problem, but I’m not sure Adamo understands the magnitude of his problem, and that results in a lack of determination to fight it.”
“You’ll help him.”
“I will. We will, but it’s a fight we can’t fight for him. Only he can win it.”
We arrived in the gym ten minutes later and after changing into our workout clothes, Kiara and I entered the boxing ring. She’d gained strength in the time of our marriage, not just mentally but also physically. I wasn’t sure she realized just how much. I helped her put on boxing gloves. She gave me a curious look.
“We’ll both wear them to do some sparring. I think you need a more active training today.”
I put on gloves as well—they would soften my blows further.
“Ready?” I asked.
She nodded and took a deep breath. It didn’t loosen the tension in her body. Kiara had been bottling up her frustration over her inability to conceive and tried to distract herself, but at some point it was going to be too much.
I raised my hands. “Left right. Left right. Quick.”
Kiara landed the instructed blows against my gloved palms, her brows drawing together. “I want to really spar.”
“All right,” I said with a nod, and got in position, fists up. I feigned an attack, which Kiara avoided then she aimed a punch toward my ribs. Not bothering to block her blow, I allowed her the hit. She needed to release her emotions and I wasn’t sensitive to pain, at least not to the amount Kiara could summon.