Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
A few seconds later, Marco steps inside the open doorway and stares at me. I still haven’t moved from my spot.
“Are you alright?” he asks with a look of mild concern.
The truth is that I don’t know if I will ever be alright again. Not as long as I have this burning desire for my captor raging wildly out of control inside of me.
“Yes,” I lie as I take my hand off the wall and walk toward my bedroom. I know now that Vincent wants nothing more than to possess me. I want nothing more than to survive him. Maybe there’s a way that we both win.
CHAPTER 10
ISLA
The longer I’m here in this penthouse, the more I notice things I hadn’t before. Whispers behind closed doors are a constant presence, whether I’m in my room listening to visitors or in the penthouse hearing men talking in the hallway. There are always conversations being had in hushed voices. They’re unaware of my expertise in waiting backstage and attentively listening for my cues. That’s a skill that serves me well now as I eavesdrop on discussions that I shouldn’t be privy to.
“Why do you always sound like you’re mistrustful of literally everyone?” Zara asks from outside my door.
At first, I can’t tell who she’s talking to, but then I hear Alonzo Ferraro answer her. I haven’t seen him since he was at the gala with his daughter, Sera, who looked like she was practically drooling over Vincent.
“Because my loyalty is to the Moretti legacy, and no one else,” he answers, sounding annoyed as if it were a dumb question to ask. “Honestly, it never ceases to amaze me how your younger generations are so quick to throw tradition out the window.”
“What are you even talking about?” Zara shoots back at Vincent’s underboss. “Just because I’m younger than you doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“True, but sometimes I think you and Junior and even my daughter, Sera, forget your place in all of this.”
“Oh really? And what exactly is that?” Zara’s voice sounds heated.
“To serve and protect the Moretti family business, not to get soft.”
If I were out in the living room, I imagine that I’d see an angry flush filling Zara’s cheeks right now. Alonzo appears menacing with a forceful presence and lacks a filter, similar to his daughter, who was always at the dance studio. He is also boastful. Marco’s arrival interrupts their minor dispute. I take their silence as my cue to come out of my room. The look on Marco’s face is more stressed than I’ve seen it before.
“We have a problem,” Marco says, glancing first at Zara and then over at me. “Get Isla back in her room and stay there with her until I can get hold of—”
I believe he was going to say Vincent. However, a stranger enters the penthouse.
“How the hell did you get in here?” Alonzo asks, clearly recognizing the cop, who flashes his badge along with a sinister smile. “Where the hell is Luciano?”
Zara shrinks back a bit, looking like she knows why Luc wasn’t watching the building, but not wanting to say anything about it. Perhaps it has to do with their prior conversation concerning Luc’s excessive interest in a certain heiress. Regardless, there’s a cop in the penthouse now, and I’m not sure how I feel about it.
A police officer’s presence suggests escape. However, he doesn’t look like a good cop. I’m not even sure if I want to leave yet. It sounds insane, but I don’t think I want to leave right now. There’s more that I want to figure out about Vincent first, as if being around him has become something that I’ve grown comfortable with.
“Take it easy, Alonzo,” the cop says. “I just came to see it for myself.”
“See what?” Alonzo barks at him.
“Her.”
The cop walks toward me, introducing himself before he reaches me. “Hello, Ms. Hart. I’m Detective Hale Monroe. How are you?”
I can feel everyone’s eyes on me, and I’m not sure how I’m supposed to answer. How does one, who is a captive of a mafia don, respond to a question like that from a cop?
“You look nervous,” he says when I don’t answer. “Perhaps you’d be more comfortable talking with me down at the station?”
“Like hell,” Zara says as she comes to stand beside me. “She isn’t going anywhere with you. You’d better leave, Monroe, before Vincent hears that you’ve snuck your way up into his penthouse. He doesn’t take kindly to bad cops who play both sides, especially not ones who are stupid enough to cross him.”
Zara is feisty, and it seems to back the detective off. Even though his attitude shows no signs of simmering down.
“Bad cop? Come on, sweetheart. You know that there’s no good or bad, just who wins and who loses.”