Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 109674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
She wasn’t just a girl. “I won’t fail. I’ll rule, and I’ll kill whoever doubts me, but I won’t give up Amelia. She is mine.”
Rage for the guards who’d let her escape rushed through me. “Set up death fights with the men who failed to protect Amelia. They’ll fight me.”
“It’ll be done.”
“But we need to find her. I won’t rest until she’s mine again. I can’t.”
Niccolo scanned the room again, then released a sigh. “I’ll tell everyone we’re looking for her. Do you have a photo of her?”
I froze. I didn’t. There wasn’t a single photo of Amelia and me. And all the old pictures of her had been burned by her father. Not a single one could be found in the entire house.
“I don’t have one,” I murmured, my heart clenching. An image of her played vividly in my head. “Bring me an artist who can do portraits. He needs to create a drawing of her that we can use to send to my men.”
“I never told you happy birthday on turning eighteen, Nestore.” Niccolo took a step back, hesitating, then turned and left.
I had turned eighteen while fighting at Remo’s side and had forgotten my birthday. I had celebrated my last three birthdays with Amelia. Even locked in a cell, my birthday had been better than this one simply because Amelia had been there. I pressed my face into my hands. I hadn’t seen Amelia in four days. Who knew how much longer I wouldn’t get to see her?
I stumbled to my feet, filled with resolve. While locked in the musty basement, I had lived because I had dreamed about a future with Amelia, about a life with her by my side, of her as my wife. I wouldn’t let anyone take that future from me, not even Amelia.
She’d become my wife whether she wanted it or not.
20 years old
Eight hundred and one days without Amelia.
Eight hundred and one days of searching for her.
Nineteen thousand, two-hundred and twenty-four hours.
One million, one hundred fifty-three thousand, four hundred, and forty seconds.
Too long.
And every second more was almost unbearable.
“It’s her,” I said as I stared down at the photo on my phone screen. A contact in Outfit territory had found her.
Sasha, my driver for the day, nodded. “We’re almost there, boss. Soon you’ll have her back.”
Almost there. My heart clenched. Nothing could go wrong now. I peered out of the window at the small corner flower shop where Amelia worked. I couldn’t look inside from my vantage point, but the men I had hired had assured me she was in there. They had kept an eye on her since this morning.
“What are you going to do with her?” Sasha asked. My head whipped around, and I narrowed my eyes at him. Regret passed his face, and he ducked his head. “None of my business. I apologize.”
Niccolo had asked me the same question this morning when we’d found out our search was finally over. I hadn’t been able to give him an answer. Rage had blinded me, but now I felt a potent mix of anger and longing.
Amelia would return to the mansion with me. She would never get the chance to run. She would be mine forever.
My heart pounded in my chest when I left the car. Passersby stopped to gawk at me, then quickened their pace after a look into my eyes.
I smirked. Slowly, I approached the shop windows. I was almost scared.
What if the Amelia I saw today wasn’t the Amelia I remembered and desired? The one who filled my dreams and nightmares? What if she’d become unrecognizable? She had looked the same in the photo, only more grown up and even more beautiful, but what if her core had changed, the very thing that had made her her?
I peered through the shop window, and my breath stalled in my chest when I spotted her. She was dressed too casually, in jeans and a shirt, but it did nothing to reduce her beauty. Her hair was still the beautiful red I remembered, and her blue eyes made my heart clench. She smiled at the customer.
She was still my Amelia. My dove. The reason for every breath I took.
And she was mine.
18 years old
My smile felt stiff as I showed the woman the bouquet my boss had created, with the additional flowers she’d requested. She was my last customer of the day. It was already ten minutes past six, and the store usually closed at six sharp, but she had come in a minute before closing time. She had started browsing the array of flowers on display, picking several she wanted added to the original bouquet, which wasn’t easy since it had been intricately bound, and I usually only did smaller arrangements.
I was desperate to get home so I could relieve Flavia of watching Luciano. She had the night shift in the bar she worked in, so I had watch duty. We both worked long hours so we could afford the place we rented in Minneapolis. We had been in town for eight months, the longest we had stayed anywhere in the past twenty-six months. This place almost started to feel like a real home, as if we might be able to put down roots here. Sometimes I worried we shouldn’t even think about making any place our longtime home, but both Flavia and I couldn’t move anymore. We were exhausted from the constant running, plus it ate up too much of our hard-earned money. We both hoped the Camorra couldn’t ever reach us here. That Nestore wouldn’t find me.