Total pages in book: 66
Estimated words: 62266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62266 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 311(@200wpm)___ 249(@250wpm)___ 208(@300wpm)
"I'm not going to marry a man because it makes sense."
"It's Z, isn't it? And not because he has taken over a pretend brotherly, overprotective role."
"Pretend?" I'm not touching the brother comment. I wonder if others will think the same because we'd grown up together, but I never saw Z the same way I see War and Ronan.
"He wants you. You surely know that."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Cosima, the dumb girl act doesn't play for me. I know you're far from it. Hell, you went to one of the most prestigious schools in the world. You know how to handle yourself."
Well then. I tilt my chin up, narrowing my eyes on him.
"Do you know how to handle yourself, Salvatore?"
“I do, but does Z?” What the hell does that mean? I won’t be asking him, that’s for damn sure. “Oh, you don’t want to touch that one? Maybe you should.”
“Sal—”
“I’m only trying to warn you, Cosima.”
“Right,” I laugh. “I think it might be best if you—” I don’t get a chance to finish my sentence before Sal's grabbed by the back of the neck and tossed down the hallway like a rag doll.
Z’s dark eyes lock with mine. His pupils are so big they almost consume all the color of his eyes.
“Don’t move,” he orders. I don’t recognize his voice.
“Z—” I try to stop him, but he’s quick, too quick. He’s already pouncing on Sal, who has barely come back to his feet. Z slams him into the wall, making a framed old family picture fall, crashing to the ground, shattering, glass spreading out everywhere. “Z!” I shout again, hoping my voice will cut through.
He wraps his hand around Sal’s neck, leaning in close. I see his mouth moving, but I can’t hear what he is saying. Sal struggles to try and remove Z’s hands, but his efforts are pointless, his face turning from red to blue.
“Z, stop!” I plead, rushing towards them, but I don’t make it. An arm wraps around me from behind, yanking me back. Without a thought, I throw my elbow back, like I've been taught, bringing my heel down on their foot. I see War fly past me in almost a blur.
"Fuck," I hear my dad grunt, making it click who's grabbed me.
"Dad." I shift my elbows so he'll let me go, but he doesn't.
"No," he barks next to my ear. "You'll get hurt."
"He won't hurt me." I struggle to break my dad's hold as I watch Z and now two of the men that work here who are trying to get him off Sal. War has his hand around Z's wrist, trying to pull his hand off Sal's throat.
"Do something!" Tullio shouts to my father. Z is in a blind rage, unlike anything I have ever seen in my life. The man is watching the life drain out of his son.
I don't know why, but I do the only thing I can think of. I scream as loud as I can. To my shock, Z's head snaps toward me, making the scream die in my throat. He releases his hold on Sal, who crumbles to the floor, coughing.
"Let her go," he orders my dad.
Holy shit. He's lost his mind.
"Z," my dad warns.
"Let her go," he tells him again.
"I'm okay." I lift my hands, palms out. My dad actually drops his hold on me.
“Come here.” Now it’s me he’s bossing around. At least that’s partially normal. I, for once, do as I’m told, going to him. “Did he hurt you?”
“No.” He wasn’t close to hurting me, which is why Z’s reaction is on another level. It’s frightening. Not for me but for others. “I’m okay.”
“What did he do to her?” my father demands to know. I don’t know what the hell to say, so I say nothing. Again, not normal for me.
Z is ignoring everyone; his sole focus is on me. I might have lost it too because why am I finding this situation hot? It’s those kinds of thoughts that make me remember how much of a Marino I really am.
“This is insane. I come into your home, and this is how you treat us? I thought—” Tullio says, his face is almost as red a tomato.
“Hold your tongue,” War says, his tone chilling. “Or I’ll cut it out.”
“Well, that all escalated quickly.” I let out a laugh. “Men sometimes.” I roll my eyes dramatically. “Z, I love that picture.” I lean down and pick up the busted frame. “Mom and I are clearly the only photogenic people in this family.”
Tova lets out a giggle, quickly covering her mouth with her hand. I feel some of the tension start to drain.
“Cosima,” Z whispers my name gently.
“Take your son, Tullio,” War tells him.
“If he ever touches her again, he’ll be a dead man walking,” Z warns.