Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 70097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
“Because someone is trying to kill you.”
The words landed between us like a dropped glass. Her hands stilled on the shopping cart. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t blink. Serafina studied me quietly for a second, her brows slightly furrowed.
Around us, the supermarket carried on as if I didn’t just drop the confession that a killer was on the loose. It was just a typical morning shopping trip in Lisbon.
Except nothing about this was casual for me and Serafina.
“You,” she deadpanned.
A muscle ticked in my jaw at her response. Of course my wife would think that. She had developed a habit of assuming the worst of me. Maybe I was partially to blame since I had, after all, given her enough reasons to think the worst of me.
“Not me,” I said, holding back a sigh.
She narrowed her eyes. “Is it Matteo?”
“Not Matteo either.”
In fact, my brother has been strangely quiet since that fateful night. I still didn’t understand why.
He should have finished the job for Serafina after she left. He could have put another bullet through me. This time, he would have made certain it was fatal. Because Matteo never missed, unlike my wife’s aim.
Instead, he called for the doctor.
He helped our father bury the gossip before it reached the wrong ears.
He… saved my life.
And I knew Matteo well enough to understand that it was very unlikely he did it out of brotherly love.
No, he wanted something else. From me. Or maybe from Serafina.
I didn’t know yet. I still hadn’t figured that out.
But I knew one thing with absolute certainty. He would collect the debt, one way or another. Sooner rather than later.
For now, that problem could wait. We’d deal with it when we went back home.
“Then who?” Serafina asked
“I don’t know yet.”
She laughed again, and the sound was hollow, stripped of any warmth. “You don’t know.” She repeated my words, making them sound like an accusation. “You materialize in this grocery store, invade every corner of my life like a festered wound, and now you tell me there’s an assassin coming for me, but you don’t know who sent them.”
Her voice grew louder with each word as she dropped the pretense, her careful composure.
“I intercepted two assassins already,” I said slowly. “And I killed them both for you. One in Brussels and another in Andorra. There is a third one now, here in Lisbon. I know because I’ve seen him following you.”
To my surprise, this one was different from the others. He was a lot smarter. More patient. He hadn’t made a single careless move. He kept his distance and knew how to disappear into a crowd, making it hard for even me to track him down.
It would have been a delightful challenge if it wasn’t my wife’s life in danger.
“I’m working through it,” I finally finished.
Serafina scoffed. “Do you know who wants me dead? Specifically.”
I opened my mouth to answer, but she cut me off. “A name. A face. Anything that isn’t your convenient, manufactured crisis designed to somewhat make me dependent on you again?”
My jaw clenched. “No.”
She held my stare for several seconds and then nodded once. “Then I don’t believe you.” She said it cleanly, without hesitation, and started pushing her cart again as if to dismiss me. “I won’t be falling for your lies again, Salvatore.”
“You’re a Salvatore now too,” I said, following behind her, my patience thinning with every step. I wouldn’t be dismissed so easily. “We are both Salvatores. Whether you like it or not. And that means your potential death is a problem—my problem—even if you don’t believe that the threat exists.”
She came to a halt abruptly, and I nearly walked into her. Serafina spun around to face me, eyes hardening with fury. “You are the threat in my godforsaken life.”
I stepped closer, my arm snaking forward so I could grasp her delicate wrist in my hand. Her pulse fluttered beneath my fingers. Fast. Furious. Alive.
“You hate me for trying to kill you,” she whispered, trying to wrench her hand free, but I held tight. Not enough to hurt her but a reminder that I could. Her free hand came up and pressed against my chest as she tried to create some distance between us.
“You’ve been toying with me all this time. Why do you care if I live or not? Wouldn’t that be good riddance for you?” Her eyes searched mine. “Maybe you will end up with a more docile wife after my death. Someone more to your liking. Someone who wouldn’t try to put a bullet through you.”
Something dark stirred beneath my ribs.
“You belong to me, Serafina. And I need to keep you alive.”
“Why. Do. You. Care?”
“Because you dying while you carry my name is an insult to me and my capabilities.” Her expression faltered for half a second. I leaned closer, lowering my voice. “I don’t want anyone questioning whether I’m weak or whether I couldn’t protect my own wife. I’m a man with a reputation, Serafina.”