Total pages in book: 260
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 245483 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1227(@200wpm)___ 982(@250wpm)___ 818(@300wpm)
I have to trust her. I have no other choice.
“Fine,” I say. “Let’s go.”
We follow my father to the front door. Grace is going to be okay. She doesn’t want to disappoint me.
We drive in separate trucks to the meet. I don’t feel like having him come back to my place after it’s over, and he doesn’t seem to care either way. The less I talk to him at this point, the better.
The meeting with the Romanos is at a diner at the edge of town. That doesn’t surprise me, since I doubt they’d want to bring some outsiders like us into their central compound. I’m betting it annoys the fuck out of my father though. I want to sneer at him and tell him, See? See? This is how they treat us, and you’ll never be one of them. That’s useless and childish, and won’t get me anywhere. He won’t believe me. He’ll always be looking for an in.
I need to outthink my father. I can’t win this by sitting back and throwing insults at him. I know I’ve been too busy with Grace to concentrate fully on the hit, but I can’t help myself. Now I need to figure out a way to buy myself some more time and to stop my father from going through with his awful fucking plan.
Marco rises from his seat at a corner booth and stands with his shoulders squared as we approach. The diner is full with locals and regulars, but it’s really showing its age. The laminate table tops are beginning to peel, and the leather seats have holes and tears in them. The floors look like they’re covered in a permanent layer of grime and grease. I suspect that this place isn’t open because it does good business, but because it’s just another front for the Romanos.
“Welcome,” Marco says, shaking my father’s hand first and then mine. “I’m glad you two are here.” It’s a firm handshake, but it’s a mere formality.
“It’s good to see you, Marco,” my father says.
I nod at Marco, not wanting to debase myself by kissing his ass.
“Sit,” he says. My father slides into the booth, and I sit next to him. Marco leans toward us, his hand folded in front of him, that sleazy smile on his face. “So, my favorite men. How are things?”
“Good, as always,” my father replies.
Marco looks at me. “How’s that little present I gave you?”
I hate that filthy smile. “She’s fine,” I say. My heart seems to beat slower, and my blood chills.
Marco laughs loudly. “Fine?” He shakes his head with disbelief. “That girl is more than fine, Gio. She’s fucking gorgeous. You got lucky with this one.”
“Yes,” I grunt.
“Make any progress? I’d be interested in seeing.”
I don’t respond right away. I don’t want him seeing. I know I have to, but I don’t want to admit it.
“In fact, we were just talking about the Rossi slave. We’re going to need to see how she’s doing real soon.” A sick smile snakes across his lips as he suggests, “Maybe a little video? Your father told us about the tapes.” I turn to look at my father, that rat fuck. He should keep his goddamn mouth shut.
“We’re very grateful for the opportunity,” my father quickly says, that sniveling shit. “Gio here is working very hard on the girl. Right, Gio?”
“Of course,” I say.
“Not too hard, I hope,” Marco says. “You have a more important job to do.”
This is the moment, then. I can practically feel my father ready to talk about his plan, ready to try and convince these impatient, stupid Romanos that killing some old lady would do any good for anyone.
I can’t let him have this moment. “I have an idea about that,” I say quickly.
My father looks at me, surprised. Marco smiles. “Go on,” he says.
“Toni’s well-guarded,” I say slowly, the idea forming as I speak. “He’s clearly the next in line for the Rossi throne, and his power is increasing every day. But what if we didn’t kill him?”
Marco cocks his head at me, and my father scoffs. “Killing him is the job,” my father points out.
I hold a hand up to him. “Wait. Hear me out.”
“Okay,” Marco says. “What are you thinking?”
“There's another man in the Rossi family that’s just as important as Toni.”
Recognition sparks in Marco’s face. “The Don,” he says.
“The Don,” I agree. Visions of Grace’s scarred skin flash before my eyes. Yes, the Don. I’m going to kill that piece of shit. I’ll make it slow for her if I can.
“He’s weak,” my father says. “He’s on the way out.”
“Maybe,” I say. “But he’s still the Don. I think we can get to him more easily.”
My father’s clearly pissed. He’s probably barely holding back his anger, but that’s fine with me. He’s the one that wanted to play these stupid fucking games.