Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 154525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 154525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 773(@200wpm)___ 618(@250wpm)___ 515(@300wpm)
“Pass the money along,” Carcoli told him.
With that, the man turned to leave.
He really was making noise on the streets if he had keys to a house for less than a couple of days, and Anthony Carcoli already knew about it. He yanked those bags inside and shut the door with a loud slam, spinning around.
“You didn’t fucking listen to me,” he hissed at Frankie. “I need you to listen to me.”
She stood at the bottom of the stairs six feet away; a sheet wrapped around her. He did his best to keep his tone level because he knew she hated yelling and fighting, but fuck. It was hard. She couldn’t know how painfully his heart currently beat in his chest or the way his blood rushed in his head.
“That could have been so bad. It could have gone way different. Get dressed,” Nico told her.
Frankie shot him a look. “Excuse me?”
“We’re leaving. Get dressed now.”
She tried to question him further, but he darted for the kitchen where he’d left their phones charging on a docking station. The house was set up for immediate use, including food. Big Mike once used it as a meeting spot.
“The fuck are you calling me at this time for?” came a rough voice on the other end of the phone when Vauhn finally picked up Nico’s call.
“Guess who just dropped like five-point-five million on my new fucking doorstep, Vauhn?”
“Hell. Can you hold it?”
“No, I’m not keeping that shit here. Are you stupid?”
“I’ve got a teething kid here, and the wife’s—”
“Hey, sorry about your issues, bro, but I’ve got Salvatore Gallo’s daughter eyeing me from across the room. So yeah, that trumps baby teeth and Big Mike would agree. Trust me, there’s gonna be more teeth, and the wife isn’t going to let you off easy on those either. You’ve got ten minutes before I’m out of here.”
He hung up the phone without a reply.
It took Nico ten more seconds before he could turn around and face Frankie. He was sure anger waited there for him.
Lust stared back instead.
Her chin tipped up, and her tongue peeked out to touch her upper lip as she eyed him down. “So, uh, this is what work is for you?”
Blood went straight to his dick.
“Fuck, don’t do that now,” he told her seriously.
Nico started moving again, grabbing things they needed. Frankie watched him go, a grin playing at the edges of her lips.
“Okay, so a jealous Nico is a no-go, but work Nico,” she said airily.
“Move,” he ordered, helping her along back into the hallway for the main entry. It didn’t help that she sounded so hot and he could still taste her sex on his tongue. “And stop, please.”
Her laughter taunted him with every step they took back upstairs to get dressed. Like the most beautiful creature God had ever created which she was, Frankie whispered words that killed him.
“I can’t wait until you fuck me.”
“Oh, my God,” he mumbled into his suddenly shaking hand, his dick so hard it hurt, “please get dressed, babe.”
He was so in love with this girl. So absolutely ruined for her.
And fucking terrified because of it.
13. — her body...
Staten Island, New York
Salvatore, Gallo Estate
“I made an appointment.”
Those words played on repeat in Salvatore’s mind as he walked the halls of his home. He had a direction in mind, and a purpose to get there when the destination did arrive, but he took slow steps to delay what he believed to be the inevitable.
Behind him, Stella padded along, indifferent but still sharp-eyed. How a cat’s face could serve such attitude while her eyes read a person’s soul never made sense to him. It also soothed Sal for reasons he did not understand
She brought him back. From a lot.
“I made an appointment.”
Stella had been perched on one of four large posts that made up Salvatore’s king-sized bed when Carina woke him up the day before with those words. She’d stood at the entry of her stairs that led to his private quarters, and she hammered nails with words into the coffin between them. Then promptly left after explaining when the appointment would be, as if she had been offering him wine and cheese.
Today, apparently. The appointment was for today.
The cat had been following him ever since.
“I’m going,” he told Stella, “okay? I’m asking. I’m doing it.”
Stella continued her stroll behind him.
He came upon the opened doors of Carina’s master suite but a cursory glance inside gave him no clue to her whereabouts.
Her white mountain of a bed made up from a dozen pillows and three different blankets sat unmade. This place meant more to her than all the magazine covers featuring her face that she’d hung along her reading nook wall. He built this for her, two years into their marriage. A spot where she could just be, and it didn’t hold memories of a time before her in that house.