Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
They are a very intriguing family. One that keeps growing in power and wealth. Their ways must be working, but that hasn’t come without pushback. I’d know because after the death of my father, it wasn’t only War Marino who was trying to get his hooks into me.
That was the plan all along. Everything so far has fallen into place.
I tuck the picture back into my pocket as my driver pulls through the gate of the Marino estate that sits outside of the city. They own a massive plot of land that they keep building onto as the family grows.
“Sir?” Arturo says when he sees me remove my gun, placing it on the seat.
“If they want to kill me, Arturo, I’ll be dead, gun or not.” I have entered the lions’ den already.
Besides, if I don’t get what I want, I think I would welcome death. It will all have been for nothing. The monotony of life would slowly kill me on its own. However, I did derive pleasure from the act of killing my father.
“I’ll get my own door,” I tell him when the car rolls to a stop.
I step out onto the stone driveway. This is the original house on the property; it is massive with whole wings to it. It’s been in the family for generations. The home really does give you a taste of Italy.
The giant doors swing open with one of War’s men there to greet me. “Mr. Monroe.” He gives me a nod, not introducing himself. I don’t need him to. I know who many of his men are. I make it my business to know who is coming and going from War’s home. Not because it’s his but because Naomi stays here more often than not.
There is another location where she will stay occasionally, but for the most part, she always returns here.
“I need to check you.” I nod, holding my arms out so he can search me. “He’s clean,” he says, not talking to me. “This way.” I follow him into the house. The place is impressive and rich with history.
We pass through a staircase that cascades down each side. I glance up, wondering if Naomi is up there. I know she’s home. The Marinos might be tech savvy, but you can’t control who is monitoring the comings and goings from your home. Though once you step onto their land, they know everything.
The guard leads me deeper into the house and toward double doors standing open. The sound of a laugh spills from the room.
“Sir.” He stops at the threshold, his hand gesturing for me to stay put so I can’t see into the office yet. “Mr. Monroe is here.”
Every time I hear someone refer to me with that name, I hate it. Mr. Monroe is my father, not me, but I can’t change that. What I can change is what my last name can stand for in the future. In that, War and I have something in common. He too has spent the last two decades cleaning up the Marino name.
“Send him in,” I hear War’s deep voice say, and the guard steps to the side so that I can enter. When I do, I see his wife, Tova, getting up from his lap, her hand dropping away from his face. She has those same wild dark curls that her daughter has, except Naomi is always trying to keep them pulled back, whereas her mom lets them be.
Naomi really is the spitting image of her mother except for those icy blue eyes. Those she gets from her father. While that may be the only physical trait Naomi shares with her father, she has a significant amount of his personality and demeanor. Their mannerisms can be uncanny at times.
“Paxton.” He stands from behind his desk, snagging his wife around her waist to pull her into his side. She melts right into him, and I can’t help the jealousy that fills me. In time, I’ll have the same. “Do you remember Paxton?” War asks her.
“I think so.” She tilts her head, giving a soft smile.
“It’s nice to see you again, Mrs. Marino.”
“Tova, please,” she corrects. “It’s nice to see you as well, but I’m going to leave you both to it.” Tova drops her head all the way back, and a rare smile forms on War’s face as he leans down to kiss her before she’s heading out of the office, closing the doors behind her.
“Sit.” He motions to one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Can I offer you a drink?” War gives a slight nod to a whiskey bar off to the side.
“I don’t drink but thank you.” I take the seat.
“That’s right, I forgot.” Lie. War Marino doesn’t forget anything, especially about a man he’s let into his home. “I’m sorry about your father.” War sits back down.