The Life – Rebirth (The Life #4) Read Online Jordan Silver

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: The Life Series by Jordan Silver
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Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 115272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 576(@200wpm)___ 461(@250wpm)___ 384(@300wpm)
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I hadn’t unpacked, of course, so sure was I of Sal’s invitation, so when Fabrizio showed up, I was ready to go. The only reason I’d given in so easily was that it would be easier for me to do things from the palazzo than the hotel room though I kept the latter under reservation for those times I needed it. I left the Do Not Disturb sign hanging on the door, even though I doubt anyone could find what I kept hidden there.

Sal was his usual exuberant self when I walked in, but there was a touch of loneliness in his greeting. He also seemed to have aged quite a bit in the months since we’d last seen each other. No doubt this was due to the stress of the sudden implosion of his family. I think the more time that passed and the more it sunk in what had been done to Ma, not to mention all the little tidbits I dropped on him anonymously over the last six months, he was beginning to get a clear picture of what his son truly was.

I’m almost certain, in fact, that he hadn’t truly known the extent of his son’s debauchery. But it’s pretty hard to deny with a full-grown human who was the product of such an act in his face. In the months I’d been gone, I’d used some of my time to start a smear campaign against Alonzo and his friends as sort of a buildup to the grand finale. Though I don’t think that’s an accurate description seeing as how they’re all guilty as sin.

It wasn’t hard to guess that Ricci and his friends had spread their poison throughout their little village and beyond, and once again, the nun had been truly helpful. If she’d had any idea that hiding behind the cloth would safeguard her from my retaliation, that belief died a quick death.

So, though none had been treated as deplorably as Ma, the end result was the same, and in almost every circumstance, that group of friends had played some part, and no, Ricci was not the only one violating the innocent. I’d used her memoir, which is what I call her retellings, to start my campaign, and there were a few rumbles here and there, nothing of significance as yet, but there were there all the same.

People were starting to talk, and in this atmosphere where the Internet can spread news within seconds, it was easy to get the word on everyone’s lips, anyone that mattered, that is. Like some of the children of the men and women who did business with Ricci and his cohorts. There’s nothing more detrimental to a dirty businessman or politician than the offspring of the wealthy with a pitchfork and a righteous cause. So, I left them to them. In short, I started my campaign in the local chatrooms of the elite schools of Palermo, age-appropriate, of course.

I wasn’t about to use my mother’s plight or further abuse the other victims by outing them, but I made sure that Ricci and his band of misfits were named with blatant disregard to their wellbeing. Now that things were heating up, I was here to reap the benefits of my hard work and to sow more chaos and discord in the midst of the fray.

To say that this was putting a crimp in Ricci’s sails is an understatement. His bid for office was sorely compromised, and now his father was growing even more disdainful of him and passing his life’s work onto him. My other reason for going is because Ricci wouldn’t dare commit patricide with me in the house.

Yes, I have the recordings of him contemplating just that and am waiting to send them to Sal anonymously, of course, when the time comes. I was once again shown to my great-grandfather’s room before Sal excused himself to go take care of business. I made sure to tell him that I would be going for a stroll for most of the afternoon because I’d missed it here so much. Something else I knew would warm his heart.

In truth, I was off to go see Felice in the private asylum where she was being held. I’m not supposed to know of this, of course, neither do many know of the place, hidden away under the guise of an elite health center where the vulgarly rich and not so famous go to de-stress. It hadn’t taken me long to find someone behind those walls who was willing to give me what I wanted for a price, of course.

It’s easy to do this shit because even though the clientele is wealthy and the prices are exorbitant, the people doing the actual work get a pittance, and most of them are only too happy to make a little extra cash at the expense of their wards who most of them hate anyway.


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