Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Carina had a dimple like that.
“Our moms want to take a photo with us,” Liliana says. “You look so gorgeous in that dress.”
“Thanks,” Haven replies, her eyes darting to me.
When she sees I’m looking at her, she quickly smiles at Liliana again, a nervous expression tightening her features slightly.
I rip my eyes away from the beautiful woman and walk toward the front door.
She must think I’m out of hearing distance, but I can hear when she asks in a soft tone, “Who’s the man in the blue suit?”
Hmm. American accent. She’s probably Liliana’s cousin.
“Leo Toscano,” Liliana answers, her voice tense with caution. “Hot as hell, but not someone you want to get involved with. Come, let’s go.”
“Hot is the understatement of the year,” Haven murmurs.
The corner of my mouth lifts as I leave the mansion and take the steps down to the driveway.
“Hot as hell,” Massimo scoffs before chuckling.
“I can’t help that women throw themselves at me.”
He rolls his eyes as we reach the Ferrari. “Next time I have to attend anything with you, bring the Porsche. I struggle to get in and out of this fucking car.”
“Old man,” I taunt him while opening the driver’s side door.
Folding his body in half to get into the sports car, he grumbles, “Old man, my ass.”
Massimo is the furthest thing from an old man, but I like to give him shit. He’s one of the best fighters I know, and he never misses a shot. The man is nothing short of a killing machine, and I’m lucky to have him by my side.
Once I’m seated behind the steering wheel, I press the button and the engine roars to life. I steer the Ferrari past all the other cars, then mention, “I wasn’t aware Nicolo had a brother.”
“If I remember correctly, the brother left Italy to live in the US when he was young. The family was upset because he married an American woman and didn’t want anything to do with the business.”
His phone beeps, and it has him struggling to pull the device out of his pocket. He reads the message, then says, “Franca says the kids want pizza. Will you stop at Basile’s?”
“Sure.”
Massimo married Franca the year I took over as head of the mafia. She’s the only woman he has eyes for, and she has him wrapped around her pinky.
Even though I’m twelve years younger than Massimo, he’s made me Leandro and Amara’s godfather. I love the kids like they’re my own.
I listen as he calls the local pizzeria and places an order so it’s ready for us to collect on the way home. Tucking his phone back into his pocket, he asks, “What were we talking about?”
“Nicolo’s brother.”
“Right. I think the woman we saw coming down the stairs is Nicolo’s niece.” He glances at me. “Santo’s daughter.”
“I guessed as much, but it’s difficult to believe,” I mutter as I take a left at a set of traffic lights. “Haven looked nothing like the American that Giada introduced us to, and I assume Santo resembled Nicolo.”
“Liliana didn’t turn out too bad, and she’s a Romano.”
“Liliana got her good looks from Giada.”
“True.” He shrugs. “Maybe the niece takes after an aunt or uncle on her mother’s side?”
“Yeah.” As I drive toward the coast, Haven’s beautiful face pops into my mind. I’ve seen my fair share of gorgeous women, but there’s just something about her that draws and holds my attention. It’s actually unsettling.
It’s her big brown eyes that are filled with a world of innocence.
And the dimple.
“She must’ve made one hell of an impression on you for you to remember her name,” Massimo teases.
“I might not be interested in a relationship, but that doesn’t mean I’m blind.” Shaking my head, I force my thoughts away from the woman and think about the upcoming attack on Vito Santoro. “Do you think Luciano will come on Tuesday?”
He shrugs. “We’ll have to wait and see.” His eyes flick to me. “What do we do if the fucker chickens out?”
The corner of my mouth lifts. “Kill him. It will give me the reason I’ve been looking for to take out Nicolo as well.”
“There’s no proof Nicolo was involved with the attack on your family,” Massimo says for what must be the hundredth time.
“He was the first person who tried to take over control of the organization.” My gaze flicks to Massimo. “Hours after my father was killed.” I turn my attention back to the road as we pass a few stores that are already closed for the night. “If that bastard were loyal to my father, like he claimed to be, he would’ve backed you instead of being a conniving asshole.”
Massimo sighs and gestures at the side of the road near Basile’s Pizzeria. “Park there.”
Just as I bring my Ferrari to a stop, Alfio, the owner, comes rushing toward us with the box in his hands.