Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
I refill my wine glass and perch myself on the outside balcony to watch my husband.
Stefano’s nose is crooked and stuffed with cotton from where his opponent caught him with a lucky hook. His knuckles are swollen and bruised from breaking his opponent’s jaw in ten places. He storms out into the parking lot, leaving me to trail behind him. We get into his truck together, not saying a word, until the engine’s on and we’re safely behind the dark-tinted glass with the radio turned on.
I throw myself across the seat and kiss him. He kisses me back with equal hunger. “I’m so sorry,” I breathe, tugging at his hair. “God, that really sucked.”
“I’m sorry too. I was worried I went too far.”
“Too far? You were perfect. I almost believed you hated me.” I kiss his cheek, his nose, his lips. “I shouldn’t have slapped you.”
“No, baby, the slap was great. Very believable.” He strokes my cheek lightly. “Hurt like hell. You’ve got a good arm.”
“Thank you.” I kiss him again, lingering against his lips. “I hate watching you fight.” I lightly pull the cotton from his nose. Luckily, the bleeding’s done.
“Even when I win?”
“If you could win without getting hurt, it wouldn’t be so bad.”
“Wouldn’t be a fight worth having then.”
“Which is how I know you’re a sicko.” I kiss him, harder this time. “Still going to punish my filthy mouth?”
“You know I absolutely am.”
“Good.” I grin, biting his lower lip, before returning to my seat. He puts the truck into drive, and we pull out. “Did you notice the way Albert appeared right as our argument was heating up?”
“It seemed like a coincidence.”
“No way. He was checking on me. They hadn’t given the five-minute call yet.”
“You think so?” His lips tug deeper. “That means—”
“I saw him surrounded by his lieutenants on the way out here.” I lean on the center console and put a hand on his leg. “All the top-level guys were at his table. What do you think they were discussing?”
“Plans to play bridge?”
“Or maybe the biggest coke deal of the century happening soon.”
Stefano grunts and stares straight ahead. “Bastard really was listening.”
“I bet they have all those back rooms bugged. Not just for us, but for everyone. You ever talk about work in the warehouse?”
“Occasionally, I’ll take a call.” He curses, grip tightening on the wheel. “I’ve said things over the years when I thought nobody was around.”
“You probably were alone. Only there are bugs in the damn walls.”
He lets out a frustrated groan. “I should’ve seen that.”
“It’s okay. How could you have known? You’re paranoid, but you’re not insane.”
“Still, I’ve been careless. I thought the fights were important. I let them distract me from what really matters.”
“Which is what?”
“Business. Family.” He glances at me. “That means you.”
“I figured. But I wasn’t in the picture until recently. Don’t beat yourself up.”
“Why? Because I have plenty of opponents who will do that for me?”
“Exactly, you masochist.”
He grins at that. I smile back, feeling my belly twist with butterflies. How can a man like Stefano make me feel like this? A killer, a pit fighter? A smuggler and a monster? But we fit together, even if we’re from different worlds. He’s older, stronger, more grounded. He evens me out and makes me see life differently. Not everything is money and power. He makes me want to find out who I really am and what I really want in life. He makes me feel like I might actually be able to do it.
“Alright, we put on your little play. What’s the next move?”
“The trap’s set. Now you just have to wait for the mouse to stumble in.”
“Sounds so easy when you put it that way.”
“I have a feeling this will be the hardest part for you.”
“Why’s that?”
“It’ll be a lot of waiting.”
He sighs, scrunching his broken nose. “I fucking hate waiting. Almost as much as paperwork.”
Chapter 30
Stefano
There is nothing worse on God’s green earth than sitting around in a car for hours.
Every time a new set of headlights appears on the horizon, I keep thinking, thank the Almighty, finally there’s salvation. Except the cars keep whizzing past and the truck remains where it is, the bright orange safety cones placed around the back and side, its four-way lights blinking yellow. The driver sits on the back gate smoking cigarettes and looking almost as bored as I feel.
I’m set back from the road on a gravel path. My car’s hidden by trees. I can’t start the engine or turn on the lights, so I have all the windows cracked. Cool evening air blows through as I thumb mindlessly at my phone, waiting for something to happen.
Stefano: This is even worse than you said it would be.
Charlie: Aren’t you used to this sort of thing?
Stefano: When I worked on the street, I was never the most patient crew leader. We didn’t do stakeouts.