Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
“Sofia, please talk to me.”
She turns to look at me over her shoulder, and I see the pain in her eyes. Pain that I put there.
“If I asked you to tell me who you are, would you be honest with me?” she asks.
It’s now or never, I suppose. I wasn’t going to tell her any of this. I didn’t want to worry her. Lying to her outright, though, is a line I don’t want to cross. If she wants to hear the truth, then she deserves it.
“If you ask me, I will be honest,” I say carefully, giving her the out.
She mulls it over a second, then stands and climbs the few steps to the landing. She stands over me and plants her hands on her hips.
“Tell me exactly what you do.”
I sigh heavily and stand up. If she’s not going to sit for this conversation, neither of us should.
“My family has businesses that you aren’t going to find in our annual reports,” I tell her honestly.
“That’s vague,” she says in a cold tone. “You said you’d be honest.”
I sigh again. “It’s not exactly legal,” I tell her. “For your own safety, it’s best you don’t know the details.”
She nods, but I can tell the answer doesn’t satisfy her.
Overhead, the lights flicker back to life. She grips the railing, and I notice again how pale she is. She’s been pale for weeks now. Sick, too. I push the thought aside, since there are more pressing matters right now.
“How illegal are we talking?” she asks. “I don’t need the specifics, but if someone asks me whether I know where the bodies are buried, would that be a joke or a legitimate question?”
I don’t answer, but the silence is enough to give her what she needs.
“Oh, my God,” she groans. “I’m going to be sick.”
“Let’s talk about this,” I offer.
“No,” she answers, her voice rising. “I don’t want to talk about this right now. I just saw you hold a man at gunpoint and shoot the wall very close to his head.”
“He had a gun,” I tell her. “It was concealed. I just pulled mine first.”
She shakes her head. “You picked me out of a crowd,” she says. “I didn’t even apply to work for you. I never would have taken this job if I knew.”
“So it’s okay for you to work for my company, but working for me directly is a step too far?”
She shakes her head. “Would I have been safer in the Hospitality Department?”
My jaw clenches and I can’t answer her.
“Am I safe now?”
“You’re protected,” I say immediately, which I can tell is the wrong thing. Her face scrunches up in anger, just like her father’s.
The locks finally disengage and I know we’re closer to freedom now. We can go back to my office and talk this out. One look at her face tells me that probably won’t be happening, though.
“If you want to quit, that’s your prerogative,” I tell her truthfully. “I would prefer for you to stay, but I would understand if you can’t.”
She glares at me, but it’s all I can offer. I put my hands up in surrender and back up, slowly making my way up the stairs but still keeping my eyes on her. I don’t know what she’ll decide, but this time, she has all the facts to make the decision that’s right for her.
17
SOFIA
Ifollow Dominic up the stairs in silence, turning his offer over in my head. The same protests fire off instantly, even with the truth laid bare in front of me. I like my job. I need the money. I have feelings for Dominic.
The words that have become a mantra over the last few days become diluted by new truths. Dominic is a crime boss. Dominic has probably killed people. Being involved with Dominic could get me hurt or killed.
I don’t speak to him again. None of the words I want to say would come out right anyway, so there’s no point now. He says he’ll understand if I quit, and I should take the out. I should see it for the olive branch it is. Maya would tell me to squeeze him for money. Hell, so would my father.
Except there’s a baby to think about. One he doesn’t know exists. Yes, he’s dangerous, but could I really justify cutting him out of his child’s life? That seems unnecessarily cruel.
The best thing is to go home and sleep on it, so I do. I don’t feel my usual guilt about taking the town car home. After tonight, I’m too shaken to even attempt the subway.
I can’t sleep, though. I toss and turn all night, replaying everything in my head. The men coming up from below. Who were they? Would they have hurt me? Did they come for me, specifically?
Am I safe in my apartment? At the garage? Am I safe anywhere?