Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75748 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“Okay. Brio is going to be out front in seven minutes,” he said, walking over toward the box and lifting it into one hand, leaving his other free to, I assumed, reach for his gun if it was necessary.
“Who is Brio?”
“Someone you want on your side if you’re feeling threatened. You don’t hate dogs, do you?”
“No. I love dogs. Why?”
“Don’t remember the last time I saw Brio without at least one with him.”
“Oh okay. I wouldn’t mind something to cuddle with on the way to… whatever this is going to be.”
“Hey,” Nico said, coming over to me. He reached out and tipped my chin up a little higher. “Nothing is gonna happen to you. Alright?”
“Alright.”
He was a criminal.
A mafia member.
There was no logical reason for me to trust him.
Yet, somehow, I did.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Nico
I’d been coming to terms with Matt not being the friend—or man—that I believed him to be.
But I’d never suspected he’d been actively working against me. Against my family. Watching us, taking notes on us, plotting against us, ready to sell our lives off to the highest bidder.
My stomach was twisted in a knot as I went down to my apartment, my mind racing off in a million directions.
Most of them had to do with how completely and utterly fucked we would all be if this information got out there.
We’d almost just lost all our lives the night that I’d accidentally interrupted a robbery.
I’d made two quick calls as I got my gun and a few extra magazines. To Lorenzo, basically just telling him the shit had hit the fan and we needed a meeting immediately.
Then to Brio, to get a ride.
Because if you wanted protection, the bloodthirsty lunatic was exactly who you wanted there with you.
It was only a short ride to Lorenzo’s brownstone. Once there, there would be guards at the door and then half of the family would descend on the townhouse once they knew what was going on.
“Oh, hi, buddy,” Blair murmured when I pulled open the backseat to reveal a mutt with the head of a pittie but the hair of a shepherd.
“He’s friendly,” Brio called as Blair tried to nudge him in so she could sit down.
“Yes, he is,” Blair agreed as the dog wiggled and licked her face.
Once I closed her in, I climbed in next to Brio, who shared a hard look with me.
We both knew how bad this was.
Even if one of these papers ended up in the wrong hands.
If fucking Matt sold digital versions…
No.
I couldn’t get ahead of myself.
“You smell like coconut,” Blair said, making me glance back to see her rest her head into the dog’s neck. Like she was seeking comfort.
And why wouldn’t she?
She’d not only just found out that I was in the mob, but that her husband was a potential mass murderer. And, of course, that her life was in danger.
Brio and I both had our eyes on a swivel, though we tried not to make it obvious to Blair, who didn’t need any more stress.
“He had a bath at the shelter,” Brio said.
“He lives at the shelter?” Blair asked, sounding suddenly sad.
“I take him for a walk every week with his Adopt Me bandana, hoping someone’ll fall for him.”
“Who wouldn’t fall for you?” she asked, getting another kiss for her words. “Is he coming in?” she asked when Brio pulled up in front of Lorenzo’s brownstone.
“Yep, you got him?” Brio asked. But he didn’t wait for an answer. He climbed out, leaned against the car, and watched the street, sidewalk, and buildings.
Blair got the dog’s leash as I opened the door for her, and the two climbed out onto the sidewalk.
She eyed the guards curiously, but said nothing as I led her up the front steps, Brio close behind us, using his own body as a shield.
“Does he have a name?” she asked when she noticed how close Brio was.
“Yeah. It’s Goya.”
“Goya?” Blair asked, eyes widening as the door opened.
I wasn’t going to ruin her surprise by telling her that he was probably named after the beans, not the artist.
But then Emilio was moving aside to let us in.
“Should I wait out here?” Blair asked, waving to the hallway as Emilio and Brio moved into the dining room where Emilio was already waiting.
“No, Blair,” Lorenzo said, rising and waving toward empty seats at the table. “I think we need to ask you a few questions first.”
“It’s okay,” I told her, pressing a hand to the small of her back.
“Just a couple,” Lorenzo assured her, picking up on her uncertainty. “We’re just waiting for a few more of the capos to get here,” he told me. “That way, we only have to go over everything once.” He turned to Blair as she sat next to me, Goya the dog sitting between her and Lorenzo. “You doing okay?” he asked her.