Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 90590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
I shrugged. “He’s fifteen. He’ll eventually grow up and realize the responsibility.”
“I wish he was as responsible and sensible as you are.”
“Being a girl helps with that,” I said with a smile. But it also meant my responsibility and sensibility would never be of use to me. I could never be a part of the business.
Dad nodded, his face becoming protective. “Don’t worry about any of this, princess. You have enough on your plate with college and your engagement and wedding party planning…” He trailed off as if he was at a loss what else I did in my free time. Dad and I didn’t have many common interests, not because I wasn’t interested in Famiglia business, but because he didn’t want me involved. He tried to show interest in the things he thought I liked instead, and I pretended to like them.
“The engagement party is already planned. And there’s still plenty of time until the wedding.” Our engagement party was scheduled in two weeks, even though we had been engaged for almost two years, but the wedding was still another two years away. A meticulously planned future lay ahead of me.
“I know you love it if things are perfect.” He touched my cheek. “Will Giovanni come over?”
“No,” I said. “He’s too busy.”
Dad’s brows pulled tight. “I can call Francesco and tell him to give Giovanni a couple of days off if you want—”
“No.”
Dad’s eyes tightened with suspicion. “Did he—”
“He didn’t do anything, Dad,” I said firmly. “I just want a bit of me time to study and think about the color scheme for the party,” I lied and smiled broadly as if I couldn’t think of a better way to spend the afternoon than to mull over the difference between cream and eggshell. I hadn’t even begun to plan anything for the wedding and didn’t feel compelled in the slightest to do so right now. After a few days of relaxation after the birthday party planning, I’d probably feel more enthusiastic.
Amo came out of the house with a plate stacked with three sandwiches while already stuffing his face with a fourth. If I ate like that, I could kiss my thigh gap goodbye. Dad kissed the top of my head again before he and Amo headed down to the jetty to discuss Famiglia business. I sighed and picked up my book, immersing myself in the pages. Dad wanted to protect me from our world, and I had to accept it.
“Do you know what this is about?” Gunnar asked as he pulled up beside my Harley. I swung off and ran a hand through my tangled hair. It was the shortest I’d ever worn it, only long on top so I could brush it back, but the helmet still made a mess out of it.
“Earl didn’t say anything to me.”
Gunnar got off his bike, an older model with plenty of chrome. My bike was an all-black Fat Boy, even the spokes were matte black. The only dash of color was the small Tartarus MC script stitched into the leather seat in blood red and the hellhound beside it.
Gunnar looked around. “Where’s the kid?”
“Probably lost in pussy somewhere,” I said with a grin as we headed toward the clubhouse. It was the fourth home base we’d had in the last two years. Vitiello and his men kept sniffing them out, so we had to abandon them frequently. There wouldn’t be another massacre.
We settled around the oak table where Earl was already waiting, lounging in his fucking massage chair. We had to lug the heavy thing from one clubhouse to the next. Earl had an expression as if he’d won the fucking Nobel Prize. More and more brothers settled around the table until every member with a vote had gathered, except for one. Earl shook his head, got up and removed the vacant chair from the table, and moved it into a corner of the room. Then he settled back into his own chair, ready to begin the meeting.
The door flung open and Gray staggered in, his fly open and his cut put on the wrong way. His long blond hair was in complete disarray. I stifled a smile. This boy had a lot of growing up to do.
Earl’s face darkened, accentuating the many scars even more. Even though he shared Gray’s and my hair color, his had turned gray over the years. “You’re late.”
Gray seemed to grow smaller as he stumbled toward his usual spot at the table, freezing when he realized his chair was gone. He looked around, finally spotting it in the corner. He went to pick up the chair.
“You can sit in the corner until you learn to be on time, boy,” Earl barked.
Gray gave him a disbelieving look but Earl sure as fuck wasn’t joking judging by the pissed-off gleam in his eyes.