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)
“I know what I’m doing, Luc,” I say with a slight snarl. “I wouldn’t have become the youngest and most feared mafia don in Vegas if I didn’t. Don’t question me.”
He nods and walks away, knowing when he’s overstepped and exercising enough discipline to fall back in line quickly. Luc might be a couple of years older than me at thirty-eight, but in the mafia, being lethal trumps everything else.
After he goes, my mind wanders back to the lovely ballerina in the guest room down the hall. He’s not entirely wrong—keeping Isla in this penthouse isn’t a lasting solution. I can’t monitor her constantly; eventually, others, such as her dance instructor, will notice. But for now, she’s not going anywhere. Not until I figure out how to handle the mess that she inadvertently stumbled into. I would have immediately removed anyone else who had seen a kill. But something about her big, brown eyes that glinted with a golden tint even in the dim backstage lighting of the theatre gave me pause. Isla Hart caught me off guard, and before I could act, she ran.
Unfortunately, escape wasn’t an option, not even for her. I can’t leave any loose ends untied, not in my line of work.
Frustrated, I pushed my dark hair across my face, sighing. It was a moment of weakness to let her live, and I detest weakness. Regardless, she’s here now and I’ll just have to deal with it until I come up with a better idea.
“You called for me, boss?” Marco De Rossi asks as the door opens, and he steps inside.
“Yes, I have a new assignment for you, Junior. How would you like to be assigned as a bodyguard to the ballerina I have just acquired?”
Junior is young, twenty-five at most, and not only is he a skilled soldier, but he’s also deeply loyal. He’s also still young enough that he hasn’t lost his moral compass yet, like most of the men in the Cosa Nostra. He’s the perfect choice to keep Isla protected and contained.
“Yeah, boss, sure. I’ll make sure nothing happens to her.”
“Good. Isla requires constant supervision when I’m absent. She’s not to leave this penthouse under any circumstances. Treat her like a hostile witness, because she is one—one who must never reveal what she has seen.”
“You got it, sir,” he nods. “I’ll make sure she’s kept under wraps.”
I nod, and Junior takes his cue to leave. Now, there’s only one more thing that I need to do before attending to other pertinent business today. I need to lay down the house rules with Isla. I’m curious to find out if she’s still as fiery as she was during my previous visit to her room. Perhaps some time alone has given her a chance to rethink opposing me.
But as soon as I unlock the door to her room and step inside, I can see that she hasn’t simmered down at all.
“Hello again,” I say in a carefully measured tone. “Are you hungry?”
There’s a tray of untouched food sitting on the table in front of the window that my staff brought in for her. Clearly, she found it unappealing.
“No,” she says. “I’m restless and I want to leave this place.”
“Then you’ll be delighted to know that I’ve come to give you a tour of the penthouse.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Isla frowns. “Let me go.”
“Sorry, sweetheart, but there’s no leaving for you. I’m certain that you already know why.”
“I told you I won’t say anything,” she argues. But no amount of desperate pleading is going to gain her freedom. It’s a waste of her breath and of my time.
“Come,” I command as I motion toward the door. “Let me show you your new living arrangement.”
“I am not living here.” She crosses her arms over her chest and straightens her perfect posture to dig into her stance. She’s rebellious, that much is very clear. Even when her eyes betray how terrified she is, she still carries herself with dignity. That’s an admirable quality.
“Let me make this very clear,” I say as I stand in the doorway, laying down the rules. “Your obedience is not optional here. It’s required. You will stay here as my guest without causing trouble. You will eat, train, and obey me at every turn. And in exchange, you’ll have free roam of this place. The kitchen is full, the space is sprawling enough for you to keep up with your dancing, and there’s a study full of books and a complete sound system at your disposal for your entertainment. You will have no access to phones, internet, or anything outside these walls. And if you try to escape, you’ll wish you hadn’t.”
“And how long is this supposed to go on for?” She asks with a shaking voice that is audibly on the edge of breaking. “How long do you intend to keep me here?”