Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
A knock sounds at the front door and I stand, nearly pulling the line from my arm.
“I got it. You stay here with her,” the doctor insists, pulling a small handgun from her bag she goes into the other room and the familiar voice of Romeo makes me instantly relax in my chair. I knew he’d come, he’d do anything for me.
I thank God he’s here.
Coming into the room, his eyes assess the situation. His dark blue Armani suit wrinkle-free, hair slicked back, and blue eyes looking at me with concern.
“So I see the honeymoon is going well.” He cracks a joke and for the first time, I laugh at one of his jokes.
He sits at the end of the bed and Dr. Abriana begins to take the line out of my arm.
“I got caught up in her and let my guard down,” I admit, guilt and shame filling my chest. I’ve never been this naïve.
Romeo looks to her then back at me.
“Did she freak when you showed up?”
I nod.
“Slowly we’ve made progress not to kill each other until someone actually tried to kill us tonight.” Anger on the edge of every word as Dr. Abriana squeezes the crook of my arm harder.
“Thank God dad sent help when he did or I don’t think she would have made it,” I mutter, my hand now under my chin.
Romeo stiffens, both of his hands rubbing his cheeks. He’s not telling me something.
“What?”
Romeo looks at me.
“I called Abriana. Not dad.”
My brows narrow. “What are you trying to say, that dad ignored my call for help?” That’s asinine. He wouldn’t do that. He couldn’t do that. He has an obligation to be there for me, for the famiglia.
Romeo outstretches both of his hands.
“I only see one doctor here, and it ain’t from dad.”
My tongue clicks against my teeth, my mind trying to process what the fuck he just said. My temperature rises, searing hot white blood boiling at the surface of my chest I ball my fist. My father betrayed me. He fucking broke an oath! No, he tried to kill me! Outrage and fury make my vision blurry. He was going to let Leona die, an easy out instead of marrying her. He could easily manipulate her men if she was out of the picture. He sent me to fall for her and ask for her hand in marriage and then tried to take her from me without caring what I want. Standing, I throw the dresser into the wall, smashing the wooden paneling. I want to break his neck, to slice it open and watch him bleed his lying words onto the floor before his men.
This will not go unsettled.
“And, it’s time for me to go,” the doctor mutters. “Let her rest, make sure she eats, and call me if she doesn’t feel better by morning,” the doctor informs, standing by the front door.
The man I beat the shit out of stirs behind me and I turn around, straddling his body, arm raised in the air and punch him again and again. As if he’s my father I stand and kick him in the ribs, then the face. His skin splitting, and spit flying across the floor. He’s a fucking mess, and my knuckles ache so damn bad right now. I want to shoot him, to lay a bullet into every joint he has but it won’t do me any good because he’s not Emilio DeAngelo.
“Call me Romeo.” The doctor winks at him and he smiles before shutting the door. Out of breath, I fling my hair from my face.
“So who is our friend?” Romeo looks the guy over that I just beat the shit out of.
“I don’t know, I can’t tell who they’re with,” I say, flinging my fingers attempt to ease the pain.
Romeo squats and begins to lift the man’s shirt and examines his skin for any tattoos or scars that will tell us who sent him. A lot of gangs, or mobs have things imprinted on their body devoting their body and soul to their crew. We can’t find shit on this guy.
“We gotta make him talk,” I mutter, hand under my chin as I think about ways to make this fucker sing like a canary.
Romeo looks the dead guy over while I’m thinking, looking for clues.
“We could use a torch?” Romeo suggests, but I don’t have one of those here.
“Nah, my options are limited.”
“Maybe we should dump him in the back of the car and take him to New York?” he continues to come up with idea after idea. I admire his twisted thoughts, Romeo has come a long way since being a child.
I shake my head to that too, it’s too risky driving that far with him in the back. Heading to the sink I turn the faucet on squirt some soap in my hand and wash the blood from my palms. Glancing out the window, I observe the boat we rented today, and the water becoming hostile from the aggressive wind.