Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22616 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
My phone shook in the cradle of my lap as it vibrated. I nearly dropped it on the floor, and then I read my uncle’s name on the caller ID. I answered it quickly in a whisper, hello?
“Baby, open the door. They’re there to pick you up and take you somewhere safe. I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“No,” I stammered out with fear and a hint of strength left to fight.
A deep growling huff came from him. “Damn it, answer the door because I don’t want them to have to break the door down, but I will.”
“I’m scared.” The confession made me feel both weak and powerful at the same time.
“Amore, I promise you that if you want your uncle to live, you’ll open the door and go with those men.”
“How do I know you haven’t already hurt him? You have his phone, and I haven’t heard from him since this morning.”
Grumbling in Italian, he then said, “Tell her you’re fine, Joey.”
“I’m fine, Ana,” Uncle Joey answered with a sigh. “He’s serious about the protection.”
“Uncle Joey, what’s going on?” I asked.
“See, Amore. Now, do as I say and open the door.” Damn him.
I had no choice but to relent. Whether Uncle Joey was truly fine or not wasn’t up for debate because he’d actually spoken to me, even though I didn’t get to speak to him and it appeared I didn’t get a damn choice. “Okay.”
“Good girl.”
Good girl? My body shivered, and not in a bad way, when he uttered that simple praise. Why had those words suddenly shifted something inside me? Maybe it was my adrenaline.
As I stood up, I accidentally pressed the red button, ending the call. I tucked the phone into my shorts pocket and then walked to the door. When I opened it, there were two men in suits. “Houston PD?” I asked with my left brow cocked. They weren’t the cops.
“Yes,” the bigger guy said with an uptick of his lips, giving away the lie.
“Don DeSalvo said to escort you to a hotel and wait. Grab a bag and let’s go. You have five minutes before we have to leave. Go now.” I ran into the bedroom and snagged the go-suitcase I had packed when I first called my uncle. Don DeSalvo? As in a mobster? Or was his name Don? Somehow I doubt it was the latter. Cops my ass.
“I’m ready.”
“That was fast.”
“I’d been waiting for my uncle to pick me up.”
“Good, let’s go. I don’t want to have to kill anyone yet.” I nodded as if I were comfortable with his comment. He took my suitcase and the other guy closed the door. They walked one by my side and the other in front of me as they led me to their waiting vehicle where a third man was sitting.
The guy in front opened the backseat door for me. I climbed inside and then he slid in beside me. A moment later my luggage was in the back and the other man popped into the front passenger seat.
“What’s your name?”
“I’m Marco, and he’s Peter,” he pointed to the man who was driving. The other guy turned and Marco said, “His name is Gio.” He was gruffer and much shorter than the other two. All three wore suits, but Gio’s suit seemed to irritate him around the collar. I had a lot of questions for them, but the way he watched me through the side mirror, I changed my mind. Of the three, he gave me the creeps. It wasn’t his size, but rather the dark, ominous stare.
Gio made a call and said, “We have her.”
“Good. Keep her safe, or you won’t live to see tomorrow.” I did my best not to smile because the voice on the other end, although new to me, was becoming quite familiar and welcoming even if he was absolutely crazy. Maybe I could talk him out of marrying me.
I had no idea who the Don was or even what he looked like, and that scared me. What if he was a fifty-year-old Al Capone-looking dude with a controlling, bad attitude who took his temper out on me? God, my stomach turned at the image in my head. There was no way he was like the hot guys I read about in books I bought while I was in college who worshiped the ground I walked on.
My heart was in my chest. How was I going to get out of this? “Stop looking so fearful, little girl. Most women would fall to their knees to marry him. You’ll be rich as fuck and people will be catering to your every whim,” Peter said. He was almost as tall and nearly as good-looking as the first guy.
“Yes, because marrying some old dude is just what I want.”
“I get that you’re young, little girl, but he isn’t that old. He’s two years younger than me, and trust me I wasn’t just talking about the money. The man is considered a hot bachelor that all women demand to meet and hope he’ll pick them.”