Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 151410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
I hurried to our table and sank beside Isabella, who scribbled in a small notebook but stashed it in her purse when she noticed me. “You look flustered,” she said curiously.
“So do you.” Her cheeks were flushed, and her freckles stood out more than usual, plus her hair was no longer in an updo.
We stared at each other for a few heartbeats before we both nonverbally decided to change the topic and switched to my plans of working as a nurse.
We obviously both had secrets we didn’t want to share.
“I hope you’re not thinking about keeping that,” Alessio said with a nod toward Rory’s underwear as he strode toward me.
“For someone who looks like he had a wedding fuck, you’re terribly ill-tempered.”
“And for someone who sees Rory as an almost sister, you’re awfully interested in her panties.”
“For someone who pretends to see her the same way, you’re awfully invested in her possible sex life.” I pushed to my feet and looked him straight in the eye. “Maybe your concern stems from a carnal desire, my friend.”
Alessio laughed. “Don’t turn this on me. We both know I don’t see Rory that way.”
“Me neither,” I said with a shrug.
“You used to be a better liar. You need to work on that before you become Capo.”
“You sound like a Consigliere,” I taunted.
“But I’m not, and I won’t be. Some things aren’t meant to be. I’m not fit to be a consigliere. I know my limits. Maybe you should start considering yours.”
“Limits are there to be broken down.”
Alessio shook his head. “Not every limit. Some limits are worth being honored, especially if they are meant to protect the people who deserve our protection.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ll behave, but don’t pretend you’re against becoming Consigliere because you want to protect others. You’re being a prissy because of completely irrelevant circumstances.”
“Blood isn’t irrelevant.”
“The only time I care about blood is when it runs over my hands and fills the air with its metallic scent.”
Alessio chuckled. “You’re the craziest fucker on this planet.”
“Not crazy enough to get it on at a Famiglia wedding. You know they honor their virgins.”
Alessio didn’t say anything.
I let out a whistle. “Don’t tell me you really banged a virgin?”
Still nothing. Alessio had a good poker face if he wanted to. “You’re being awfully secretive about this.”
“Let’s go back to the party.”
I shook my head with a chuckle. Knowing Alessio, he’d probably fucked some neglected MILF, not an honored virgin. Always working on his karma.
I got dressed, and then I grabbed Rory’s underwear. Under watchful eyes, I tossed away her bra, hoping he hadn’t noticed how I’d stuffed her panties into my pants pocket. I’d long given up figuring out the reasoning behind my actions, so I didn’t even try this time.
It was three in the morning when I finally gave up on sleep and decided to leave the hotel before I accidentally killed a Famiglia soldier and caused another war. I needed to let off some steam. I particularly needed to keep my mind busy and as far away from what Amo and Greta were currently up to.
I short-circuited a motorbike I found in the underground parking of the hotel and left the premises with smoking tires. I didn’t care if this was one of the Famiglia’s bikes. There was a high chance that this belonged to either Matteo, Maximus, or Marcella’s biker boy, all of them people I loved to piss off in whatever way I could. Stealing a ride for the night was one of the lesser transgressions I could commit, considering the rage I was feeling. I bought a bottle of cheap vodka on the way to a part of the city where most people didn’t want to be stranded at night. Those were usually the places where the most fun could be had. I doubted Luca would get his panties in a bunch if I killed off the scum of his city. And if he did. Oh well.
Two hours later, I sat in a puddle of warm blood on the dirty floor of a biker meetup. Beside me on the ground, a biker took his last gurgling breaths, blood spurting out of his chest and throat wounds. I dropped my phone on the floor after I’d told Fabiano to pick me up. His voice still echoed from the speakers, but I wasn’t listening.
I tried to count how many I’d killed, but it was a mess. I regarded the samurai sword in appreciation. It was my first time using one. I should probably thank the owner of the pub for having it on his wall. But I suspected he was among the chopped-up bodies around me.
Most of the events after I’d stepped into the establishment were blurry or blacked out. Sometimes when my fury rose too high and my blood lust took over, I became too frenzied to remember details.