Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
When I turn the corner on Jazz’s floor, I’m so lost in the memory of Dante and the woman together, of what a handsome power couple they make, that I almost don’t spot the people on the landing until it’s too late.
I stop dead.
Jazz is leaning next to her door, wrapped around Reino’s body and kissing him as if it’s going out of fashion. One hand is fisted in the front of his shirt and the other in his hair. Her leg is wrapped around his ass. Reino is tilting his hips forward, all but dry humping her against the wall.
Despite myself, a smile finds its way to my lips. I knew it. The attraction between those two is palpable. What Reino did is wrong. His actions hurt Jazz deeply. I hope they can talk it out.
Backtracking quietly, I leave before they see me.
Ulysses stands outside with his phone in his hand, scowling at the screen. His brow creases when I exit not five minutes after entering.
Vigilant in a flash, he shoves the phone in his back pocket. “Is everything all right, Mrs. Morici?”
“You know what?” I move around him. “I think I’ll rather take a walk.”
I need time to think.
The car is parked on a yellow line on the curb, but he leaves it there and falls into step behind me.
One of Dante’s cars rounds the corner. I recognize the driver. The car rolls slowly down the road as he follows me.
Too upset to pay attention to them, I stumble ahead blindly. My shoes are pinching my toes. Blisters start to form on the back of my heels, but I ignore the discomfort. I just need to get away.
I walk for a long time. Finally, when I can’t stand the pain on my heels any longer, I take off the shoes and carry them in my hand. No one minds the woman who walks barefoot down the sidewalk, and I’m grateful. I just need space to breathe and think.
I only realize that I’m close to the condo when the park comes into sight. This isn’t far from where I ran into Dante on a different day when I also needed to be alone.
Come to think of it, I never asked him what he was doing so close to the condo on that cold, snowy day. He wasn’t working for my father at the time, and his apartment was in a different borough. He had no reason to be here, unless it was for business. But he and my father were enemies already, so if he’d been here for business, it wouldn’t have been with my father. Dante took me to a coffee shop and spent the rest of the afternoon with me, so unless he blew off his date, he wasn’t meeting someone socially either.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I stop at the spot where I’d bumped into him. It feels like a crossroad of sorts, a kind of fork in the road that changed my destiny.
“Mrs. Morici.”
I spin around at the sound of my name.
Ulysses watches me with a wary gaze. “Please, come back to the car.” He motions at my bleeding feet. “You’re hurting yourself.”
“I’m fine,” I bite out, wishing he’d just leave me alone.
His face hardens, but he doesn’t meet my eyes. “It’s not a request.”
My lips curl. “You spoke to him. You told him what I saw.”
“I didn’t. I’m just doing my job by watching out for you.” He holds out an arm, indicating the car that’s been following me and that’s now idling on the curb. “Please, get inside.”
“Why didn’t you? Call him, I mean?”
“He’s got a meeting with the pakhan later, and he can’t afford to lose focus.”
Concern squeezes my ribcage. “The bratva?”
Ulysses doesn’t reply. He’s already shared too much information with me.
When I don’t move, he takes a step toward me. “You should know that Mr. Morici gave me permission to touch you if it’s for your wellbeing or safety.”
I’m tempted to run and let him chase me down the street, but he won’t hesitate to do so. He’ll do what Dante told him to do, and he’ll report back to my husband. If I do as I’m told, it’s because I don’t want to give Dante the satisfaction of knowing he upset me enough to make me run away.
Scoffing, I walk past Ulysses to the car.
A man gets out of the front passenger side and opens the door for me. I shift into the back. Ulysses follows, sitting down next to me.
We don’t speak until the driver drops Ulysses off at Jazz’s building to collect the car he left there.
“It’s a wonder you didn’t get a fine,” I say.
“I did.” Ulysses gets out of the car. “They send them via text message these days.”
“I hope it’s a big one.”
A few hundred bucks is nothing for a man as wealthy as Dante, but still. I want him to feel it. It’s a pity the car didn’t get towed away.