Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 102833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
“You still want all that?” I ask. “After everything you’ve been through, the loss you’ve endured, you still want what Dominick and Peyton have?”
“Of course!” she says. “Isn’t that the purpose of life? To fall in love and have a happy family and a happy life?”
My thoughts go back to when Dani was being held captive by Enrique, and she texted me, asking what I thought the purpose of life was.
“There’s more to life than that,” I point out.
“Like what?” She raises a single brow. “Money? Control? Power?” She scoffs. “Life is short, and sure, money definitely makes life more pleasant. But I want love, companionship. When Owen held me in his arms, everything around us disappeared, and it was just me and him and our love. Maybe if I had never felt it, I wouldn’t know what I’m missing, but I did, and I miss it and crave it like crazy.”
She takes a sip of her drink, and it hits me just how strong my sister is. She’s been through so damn much—shit I tried and failed to protect her from—but she’s still here, sitting next to me, not letting the shit life’s thrown at her bring her down.
“So, why aren’t you dating?”
“I’ve gone on a few dates,” she says. “But most of them just aren’t my type.”
“Like the bartender?” I smirk just as my phone vibrates in my pocket.
I pull it out and click play.
Little Russo: I’m looking for something sweet to eat after our intense workout session, but you don’t have anything good. How do you live like this?
“Who are you texting with?” she asks.
“No one.” I pocket my phone.
“Really? So, you were just smiling at no one?”
“If you must know, it was Dani.” I clear my throat. “Daniella Russo. Lorenzo’s sister. She’s staying with me until Lorenzo gets out or we find that asshole Enrique.”
“Hmm …”
“What?”
“Nothing.” She shrugs, looking smug as fuck.
“Okay, Miss Watch and Learn How to Properly Communicate. Why don’t you properly communicate what the hell your little hmm was for?”
She smirks, and I groan, knowing exactly where her mind went.
“It’s not what you’re thinking.”
Even if a huge part of me wishes it were.
“I didn’t even say anything,” she points out.
“No, but I know what you’re thinking.”
“Because you were already thinking it.” She cackles.
“She’s Lorenzo’s sister,” I say again. “His much, much younger sister. Twelve years younger, to be exact.”
“So?” She furrows her brows like she genuinely doesn’t see the issue here.
“So, she’s off-limits.”
“Okay.”
“Okay what?”
“It’s just … I saw the way you smiled when you read her text. And it wasn’t your usual scary I just did something sinister smile. It was genuine, and it looked good on you.”
She throws the rest of her drink back and stands.
“Where are you going?”
She nods toward a businessman in a suit. “My date for the evening just arrived.”
“You came here to meet up with someone else?” I ask, mildly offended.
“I’m sure as hell not going home with you.” She fake gags.
The guy spots her and walks over. “Brielle,” he says, placing one hand along her back and extending his other to shake mine. “And you must be her brother. I’m—”
“Theodore DeSantis,” I finish for him, standing from my seat, so I’m towering over him.
I make it a point to know all the players in this city.
“That’s right.” He lights up, thinking my knowing his name means he’s important. “I own—”
“DeSantis Investing,” I say, squeezing his hand and pulling him closer to me. “And if anything happens to my sister, you won’t live another day to give anyone financial advice.”
Brielle rolls her eyes. “I can handle myself, but thank you.” She kisses my cheek. “Maybe you should focus on your own love life … or lack thereof.”
I ignore her comment, and after one last glare at Theodore—who looks more than uncomfortable—I have a seat and pull my phone out since it went off while I was threatening that dumbass.
Little Russo:
“Would you like another drink?” the bartender asks.
“No.” I stand and throw down a couple of bills. “I need to head home.”
Home …
Not too long ago, I dreaded going home.
Now, I’m looking forward to it.
“Matteo, is that you?” Dani calls out.
“Yes.”
“I’m in the living room. My insides are eating me alive from lack of—”
I hold up a bag from the Italian bakery in town that everyone loves, and she gasps.
“You love me.”
She runs over and hugs me, and even though she’s clearly joking, the thought of loving her does weird shit to me. Shit I have no right to be thinking about.
“Don’t overthink it,” I say dryly. “I just didn’t want your body to eat itself.”
She pulls the slice of cheesecake and plastic fork out and takes her first bite, moaning when the food hits her mouth.