Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 62569 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62569 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Expected, as always, from someone who believed she lost everything when she had no idea what she actually gained from said loss. Emotions were useless, they kept you from seeing the bigger picture, the facts, the numbers.
Her voice cracked with each slow sentence she spoke. “…he was protective of the five families, some might say to a fault, he loved us with his whole heart and—“ Her voice wavered just a bit.
He was supposed to just be her bodyguard, an asset to the five families.
What he took to his grave other than cowardice?
His betrayal.
What I’d take to mine?
The truth.
3
RAVEN
The one with the tough love.
Iwasn’t given an opportunity to hug anyone—not that I wanted it. I just wanted to go back to the house, lie in my childhood bed and hide under the covers and pretend it was all just a horrible nightmare.
When the service was over I held my head high and walked toward the back of the church.
Ace was waiting.
All I knew was that he was the replacement.
Of course my dad would give me the coldest and most calculating De Lange of them all. He came back years ago for college and immediately fell into line with my family all over again, protecting my dad, and now protecting me even though he was only twenty-seven to my twenty-one.
He’d risen in the ranks so fast that he’d become a made man before graduating, and I’d been an immature high school girl used to getting everything I wanted. And I’d always wanted him—I’d told him as much. Apparently he couldn’t get over the fact that he practically grew up with me and still saw me as an annoying kid.
I couldn’t even think about that day.
I should have remembered that Ace was the epitome of self-control and that I’d been a hot headed idiot thinking I could be the one to break it. I mean how many times had I tried to get him to crack as a child? I’m pretty sure I was the reason he had a nervous tick in his eye for a solid year, but how was I supposed to know the chicken would lay eggs in his bed! The plan was to scare him not have him jump into it and crunch them! I heard rumors that to this day chickens still made him tear up. One time, Ivan called him chicken killer and he pulled out his knife.
I shook the thought away and cringed as my brain strolled down memory lane. I was sad, focusing on anything but Louis was distracting from the severe pain. I’d gotten a bit drunk off the graduation wine my parents had served and approached him, started stripping thinking he’d be all in only to have him turn around and start muttering.
“What? Nervous?” I taunted. Was I slurring my words?
Nah.” He followed the denial with a heavy annoyed sigh and checked his watch. “How long are you going to be embarrassing yourself like this? I’m hungry.”
I flinched and reached for him only to have him jerk away. “That depends on you.”
“I’m celibate,” he’d deadpanned. Why did he sound so bored? “And I’m taken so whatever you plan on doing, it won’t work. Maybe you should return to your party and sober up. Might I suggest drinking water next time? Or some chocolate milk?” His green eyes didn’t flash. They were controlled, focused on me like nothing about me tempted him in any way. I may as well have been a houseplant he was inspecting. I shuddered at the memory, and fresh anger returned right after my physical response. He didn’t have to be so cruel about it.
I think that’s what started my hate. I was young and immature obviously drunk and I had a crush; he could have at least turned me down nicely rather than offering chocolate milk.
Something shifted in my brain that day.
He hadn’t as much as blinked, simply grabbed my clothes, handed them back to me, then went straight to my dad and tattled.
I shoved the memory away and stopped in front of him. I lifted my head. May as well get the torture over with. I was too sad to fight him. “Let’s go.”
Long black eyelashes blinked slowly over light hazel eyes. “After you.”
He didn’t touch me—he never touched people, but you felt him regardless, like the heat from his body couldn’t help but pulse from his fingertips even though he was inches from the small of your back.
An involuntary chill ran through my body as I pushed open the doors of the church and made my way to the waiting limo—one of at least ten parked out front the rest were in the back.
I stopped in front of it expecting him to open the door.
When nothing happened I turned around. He put on a pair of aviators and crooked his finger at me, then pointed. “I drove and they’ll expect you to be in a limo.”