Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
The kid belched and hiccupped with relief.
I turned to him, raising my finger in warning. “Study hard. Don’t do drugs. Do not fucking contact me unless you’re bleeding out. Do you have a family?”
He shook his head hysterically.
“You can’t spend the holidays with me,” I announced dryly.
He nodded.
“What’s your name?” I demanded.
“Brayden.”
“I’ll see you when you’re eighteen, Brayden.”
Luca tapped his chin, still mulling the game over. “That royal flush of yours, Blackthorn. Make sure it doesn’t happen again. We’re men of honor, and when you betray us, we become very unfriendly.”
“What can I say?” I stood up, snapping my fingers. One of my bodyguards hurried with my coat, ready for me to slip into. “I’m a lucky bastard.”
I watched Gia in the surveillance camera app as she yet again slinked into the building at midnight, silent and sleek like a cat. She hugged a brown paper bag to her chest, tiptoeing her way in.
I did not like unprofitable deals.
As far as this one went, I wanted my fucking money back.
Not only had I lost a competent secretary, but I saw my so-called fiancée less than ever. She avoided me like the plague. Which left me no choice but to consume her like an infectious disease.
Setting my phone down, I turned off all the lights in the apartment and waited in the shadows.
I heard the mechanical lock of my door turn. She stepped inside, careful not to make a sound.
“Only thieves and cheaters sneak up at night,” my voice boomed in the complete darkness of the living room. I was sprawled on the antique settee she had purchased. “Let’s hope for your sake you’re neither. I’d hate for your mother to lose her child during such…turbulent times.”
“Jesus.” She jumped back, dropping the brown paper bag and a pair of heels from her hands.
I watched the industrial snacks she’d bought roll on the floor. I had four fridges, a pantry the size of Buckingham Palace, and two chefs on my payroll, and this idiot was living off prehistoric Rice Krispies from the bodega downstairs.
“Wrong man,” I announced. “I won’t die for your sins, but I’m happy to introduce you to some fun ones.”
“What a tantalizing offer.” Crouching down, she hurriedly collected her woeful dinner. “If only I were into megalomaniacal wankers.”
I clapped twice, turning on the main chandelier. Light flooded the room.
Gia squinted, her eyes readjusting. I stood up and sauntered over to her, taking her in.
It’d been a few days since I’d gotten a good look at her. It left me feeling resentful and on edge. I’d been cracking those math equations more often than I liked to admit. My numbers fascination got so bad I started counting sand grains in an hourglass.
Her high ponytail was sleek at the front and flipped out at the end, like a pinup girl. She styled her edges in soft swirls to frame her forehead, which I itched to trace with my fingers. Her makeup was dewy and soft. She always looked like she spent her nights sleeping inside rose petals.
She wore a practical woolly office dress and a resigned expression.
At least she’d stopped dressing like a call girl.
I knew she was dealing with a lot of bullshit after our surprise engagement announcement. The office had been standoffish and suspicious of her, thinking we’d kept our relationship a secret so they’d confide in her. Rumors swirled that I had impregnated her, a reason for our hasty marriage.
I was probably the last person she wanted to see, and I could not find it in myself to care.
“Care to explain what you’re doing every day until midnight?” I stuffed my fists into my pockets.
Filippo and the rest of the Ferrante guards were due to arrive tomorrow morning, and I was in a prickly mood.
I knew she’d buck at the new arrangement.
“Not that it’s your business, but I spend time with my mother every night.” She tipped her chin up, giving me the frostiest, most repulsed expression in her arsenal.
Now came the part where I was supposed to ask how her mother was doing. Not because I cared, God forbid. If she died, the deal was off.
But I had bigger fish to fry.
“Have you purchased a wedding dress yet?”
“With what time exactly?” She shuffled junk food back into her bag. “I work two jobs since you transferred me to HR and assigned me to teach Rebecca the craft.”
“I’ll have a wedding gown sent your way tomorrow. I’m flying to Geneva for an eight-hour meeting tonight.”
“I’ll pray for a hurricane.”
“I’ll be here in time for the wedding.” I ignored her sarcasm.
“Don’t be so sure. Tomorrow is never guaranteed. A lot can happen between today and Thursday.”
“That’s true. Which brings me to our next subject.” My jaw locked. “A minor complication arose in one of my dealings. The Irish Mafia is after my throat. You’ll need to walk around with security until I take care of this.”