Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 111537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111537 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
The girl has an Italian name, but that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. She could be one of the few Italian Americans without a cousin or an uncle in the business. Still, odds are she knows someone who knows someone. That means it would be worth my while to find out who she knows.
I wouldn’t put it past Frankie to bring a spy into my house by accident. After all, he met this girl on the street. What if the meeting wasn’t quite as serendipitous as it seemed? What if she maneuvered her way into the coffee shop or wherever on purpose just to run into my son?
I’m starting to get paranoid now, and I don’t like it. In my opinion, everybody’s looking for something. It’s easy to assume that this girl is just looking for a meal ticket, but just as easy to think she’s working on someone else’s dime.
Marcello is right. I need to figure out who she is before I let this thing go any further. With any luck, she’s just a highly paid tutor who’s pretty to look at but not much else. But if Marcello’s suspicions are correct, she could be the beginning of the end for my family.
CHAPTER 5
MARLENA
Istick it out for two hours until my brain feels like it’s on fire. Frankie has no focus whatsoever. He keeps bringing up random subjects as if we’re two kids hanging out instead of a tutor and a student working on an assignment. I play his game and then gently bring him around to the case at hand. But by the time we complete the assignment, I’m ready for a large glass of wine.
“So, same time tomorrow?” Frankie asks as I stand up.
“Sure,” I agree. I have a fleeting wish that I could earn my four thousand dollars some other way, but it looks like I’m stuck. Frankie needs a lot of help, and that’s what he’s paying me for. “But next time, you really need to focus,” I say.
“You got it, teach,” Frankie replies with his signature smile.
I have to admit that I like him. He’s goofy, and all the wealth surrounding him clearly hasn’t gone to his head. I’m still nervous about being in this place, and I can’t wait to get back into my car. The sooner I can get past those iron gates, the better. I feel like a fugitive or a spy. My job is to get in and out of the family complex without being seen.
I shake my head, laughing quietly at myself.
“What’s so funny?” Frankie asks, showing me to the door.
“Nothing,” I reply. “It’s just this house is overwhelming.”
“You haven’t met my dad,” he quips.
I’m not going to touch that remark with a ten-foot pole. In fact, I don’t want to meet his father. The more tutoring sessions I can get away with in private, the better. I have a feeling Frankie’s dad is nothing like his son. How could he be? He built this entire fortune from the ground up, or at least that’s what I would like to think, which probably means he’s ruthless. If he isn’t mob-connected, then I’m guessing he’s equally dangerous in his own right.
But none of that matters now, because I’m almost home-free. I let Frankie walk me to the door, and when we step outside, I can breathe the sweet air of freedom. Just then, a squat man with a unibrow barges out the door behind us.
“Miss,” he says.
I turn around, my heart sinking.
“Will you come back inside?” unibrow asks.
I look at Frankie for help, but he just shrugs. The same muscular guy who was guarding the door hours ago is still there. I look at him, but he doesn’t meet my eyes. It seems like I’m stuck.
“What’s this all about?” I ask politely, trying not to betray how nervous I am.
“Frankie’s father would like to meet you,” unibrow explains. I get the distinct impression that ‘Frankie’s father’ is not how he usually refers to the man in question.
“Well, I really have to go,” I insist.
“It will only take a minute,” the man promises.
I take one last look at the sun and the sky before climbing the steps and walking back inside. The door closes behind me with a sense of finality. I’m trapped, and there’s no way out except through the lion’s den.
I tell myself I’m being ridiculous. He’s just a friendly old oil baron or a tech wizard. Not a mafia don. Dear Lord, please don’t let him be a mafia don.
I follow unibrow through the foyer and past the dining room. This is a part of the house that I haven’t seen yet. Frankie doesn’t accompany us, probably returning to his suite upstairs. I’m all alone now, and definitely scared. There’s no use denying it anymore. I know what organized crime looks like, and this is it.