Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
I didn’t care that Lucio had attacked one of his restaurants, but to hear that he’d taken a woman captive as payback for Matteo stealing me was a bridge too far for me. I can’t stand that another woman would suffer in my stead. But what can I do from here?
Every page I flip, the ring that’s on my finger gleams in the light, and I can’t help but touch it in the moment as if it’ll connect me to him and give me an update about his whereabouts and well-being. As if I even care whether he’ll live or die.
I breathe out and look away, releasing my own hand.
Why can’t I get this man off my mind?
He forced me to marry just for the sake of revenge.
I want to scream at him, stab him, skewer him on my fork just for having the audacity to lock me up in here like he owns me … yet I can’t stop thinking about that damn kiss I gave him.
The kiss that I never should’ve agreed to give to him, just to atone for my sin of trying to kill him.
Goddammit.
Even now that he’s gone, I still can’t stop fantasizing about him, and the way he so easily made my knees weak.
What’s wrong with me? I should hate him, and I do. I hate him. I hate him.
“Ma’am?” Sarah knocks on the door. “I wanted to let you know that Matteo called.”
I immediately drop the book and head to the door. “Yes?”
“Matteo says it’ll take a little while longer, but that you shouldn’t worry.”
“I never said I worried about him,” I respond.
She shrugs.
“Did they get the girl?” I ask.
“He didn’t say, but he did ask if I could prepare a bath for you. Is it okay if I come in?”
I sigh in disappointment and step away from the door. “Okay.”
She opens the door and steps inside. “How are you holding up?”
“Fine, I guess,” I reply. “Did you finish shopping?”
“Mm-hmm.” She holds up a basket filled with all kinds of bath supplies. “I got some extras for you.”
I know it’s not her fault I’m stuck here, and she’s just trying to help me make the best of it.
I smile. “That’s nice of you.”
Matteo
The restaurant is in shambles. Bullets are scattered all around, and holes litter the walls and floors. There’s nothing left of this place.
It’s only one of many establishments I use to launder the money I earn through multiple means, but this … this note hurts the most.
An eye for an eye. You take my woman, I take yours. And I will continue taking one of yours for every day you keep mine. – Lucio
I scrunch the paper up in my fist and grumble, “Do you have a goddamn lead or not?”
“Our staff wasn’t able to see where they went. All they had were a few numbers on a license plate,” Franco replies.
“What about the girl?” I ask.
“Follow me.”
We head through the restaurant toward where most of the gunfire erupted. All the food and utensils are strewn about the floor, the soup still warm as it lies ruined in a puddle on the floor, splashes of onions mixed with the blood of my workers.
Damn him. I will fucking make him pay for this.
“Out here,” Franco says, as I follow him out the side door, where there’s a bloodied mark on the pavement.
BANG! BANG!
I duck for cover as the gunshots rattle my bones.
“Franco! Behind us!” I yell.
Franco pulls out his gun and shoots back, while I make a beeline for the road where they just ran across. I bolt after the guy who shot us, around the corner, and into another alley. A dead-end.
He aims up close.
BANG!
Too late.
My gun fired first, blood splattering everywhere, even on my suit as he slumps against the walls, blood smearing the stones.
I kneel in front of him and snatch his gun from his hand, throwing it to the side. “You.” I grab him by the shirt. “Look at me. Where is Lucio?”
“Gone,” he splutters.
I punch him in the gut. “You killed all of those people!”
He merely laughs. “That’s what happens when you steal from Lucio.”
I point my gun at his face and pull the trigger. “Have fun in hell.”
BANG!
Droplets of blood scatter onto my skin, but it doesn’t even faze me.
“Sir?” Franco approaches from behind, and I look up.
“This fucker nearly escaped,” I say, wiping my gun on his shirt. “Did you see any others?”
He shakes his head. “No, but I did spot a pair of feet behind a dumpster in the alley.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
Could it be a survivor?
He beckons me to follow him back to the restaurant and into the alley where we exited and got shot at. A female body lies motionless behind the dumpster, a pool of blood beneath it.
The woman he stole … and murdered.