Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
There’s one rule during these special parties.
No pictures. No recording.
But Adriano’s been doing exactly that all this time.
Holy shit.
If this got out—
Every single powerful person in the city would instantly try to destroy him.
I spot a feed in the middle right. Men are coming up the steps. They bypass the BDSM section, turn down a hall, and head straight for me.
I hurry away from the desk. My heart’s racing. The magnitude of this realization keeps lingering. Dozens of parties, hundreds of people, hours of embarrassing footage. He could blackmail the entire damn city. He could own this town.
He honestly might already.
I adjust myself, trying to be presentable, when the door yanks open. The men appear, four of them, all wearing black outfits. The young man in charge approaches while the others remain politely behind.
“I’m sorry, miss, but Mr. Marino sends his apologies. There is a serious matter he has to deal with.”
“Oh, uh, that’s okay. I can go home.”
“You’re welcome to stay if you’d like, but Mr. Marino likely won’t be returning tonight.” He hesitates, glancing down at me. “Or we can take you wherever you need to go. My name is Luca, and I’m happy to do whatever works for you.”
“I appreciate the offer, but I can order a car.” I’m blushing like crazy and start to slip past him. “I’m just going to head back home.”
“He requests that you leave your contact details.” Luca clears his throat. I’m guessing he’s around my age, in his early twenties, and seems about as comfortable with this situation as I am. Doesn’t Adriano have a lot of women in his office? “In case he wants to reach out.”
My heart picks up again. Sweat prickles my skin. I hate lying, so I decide to go with the truth. “I’d rather not.”
Luca hesitates, surprised, but only nods. “If that’s what you want. Please, let me take you home at least.”
“No, that’s totally okay.” I have my phone out already and put in a request for an Uber Black. “I’ll be fine. Really, I promise.”
Luca doesn’t seem happy, but at least he doesn’t push. My group of guards escorts me back down through the madness. It doesn’t seem like the orgy is going to stop any time soon. If anything, it’s gotten more depraved, vigorous, and sweaty. The place stinks like a gym. For some reason, it doesn’t bother me.
I don’t know how these people are fucking so much. I’m spent and exhausted, and Adriano’s touch is seared into my skin.
Meanwhile, one woman is taking down at least six guys at once and doesn’t even seem fazed.
That’s impressive stamina.
“You’re welcome back any time.” Luca puts a black business card made from a lightweight metal into my hand. It says only Adriano Marino and has a phone number. “Show that up front and they’ll let you through. Consider it a standing invitation.”
“Uh, thanks.” I turn to leave but hesitate. “Tell Adriano I said—” But what’s the point? I’ll see him soon enough. When we get married. “Never mind.” I hurry out into the night, feeling like I just made an enormous mistake but not caring in the slightest right now.
Chapter 3
Adriano
Irip back the curtains. Sunlight spills into the room. It smells stale with sweat and urine. An enormous bed takes up most of the space while piles of books are stacked against the far wall.
“How are you feeling today, Papa?” I ask.
My father mumbles something from the bed. He squints at me, hand held up over his face. He’s been awake for an hour now, but every time he tries to get his day started, he ends up back in bed after forgetting what he was trying to do.
“One of those mornings,” I say softly, helping him shuffle off the covers. His arms are so thin, and his skin feels like paper. He grunts something at me, only somewhat verbal. There’s a glimmer of recognition in his expression, though, and I wonder who he thinks I am today.
I help him into the bathroom and guide him through his morning routine. With the proper nudges, he’s mostly self-sufficient, though I have to help keep him on track. Otherwise, he’d get lost brushing his teeth and fall into an endless loop of rinsing, spitting, and starting all over again. I help him dress, humming some of his favorite music as I do, and get him into his wheelchair. It’s not strictly necessary, but I find he’s happier sitting down for some reason.
I watch him put on his shoes and take them off again for the next half hour while I read briefings at the small table near his TV. The nurse will come soon, and she’ll help him through breakfast.
My father, the great Don of the Marino Famiglia, hasn’t been seen in public for the last six months, ever since his dementia took a turn for the worse.