Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77824 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77824 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
I snuggle closer to the man who’s quickly taking over my heart. “Thank you.”
He holds me for a moment before he pulls away and says, “Let’s get everything you need.”
We spend the next couple of hours gathering the last of my belongings and going through Dad’s office for all the financial documents and his laptop.
“I’ll have to get Dario to break into the laptop,” Renzo says when we’re stopped by the device needing a password.
I try Mom’s birthday, and when the screen unlocks, I grin at Renzo. “His passwords are always my or Mom’s birthdays.”
“That makes things a hell of a lot easier,” he says as he shuts the laptop again. “Let’s get out of here.”
When we walk toward the foyer, I murmur, “Can I just have a minute alone before we leave?”
“Sure.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, then heads to the front door.
As I walk to the kitchen, I glance around my family home. The sorrow grips my heart, and I don’t fight the tears as they come.
In the kitchen, I trail my fingers over the counters where I’ve spent many hours practicing the art of cooking.
Dad ate every meal and never complained. He was my biggest cheerleader.
“God, I miss you so much, Daddy,” I whisper.
I think about how Louisa would complain about all the dirty dishes, but whenever I offered to help clean them, she’d shoo me away.
Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I suck in a deep breath.
This place isn’t home without them. It’s become a graveyard for the moments I shared with them.
Turning around, I leave the mansion and lock the door behind me. Walking to the Bentley and the man who loves me, I decide to stop fighting to keep Renzo out of my heart.
It’s not a fight I would’ve won anyway.
When I reach him, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down so I can kiss him. Breathing in the woodsy scent of his cologne, I relish in the feel of his embrace.
With my lips against his, I whisper, “I love you.” I pull back and meet his eyes. “The good, the bad, the ugly, and the beautiful. I love all of you. I might regret it one day, but there’s no way to keep you out of my heart.”
A devastating smile curves his lips, and happiness fills his eyes. “Thank you, amo. I know I haven’t made it easy for you, but thank you for loving me anyway.”
“I didn’t have much of a choice,” I tease him. “You took my heart captive, and I just had to make peace with it.”
He shakes his head, his expression filling with tenderness. “You won’t regret loving me, Skylar. I promise.”
I press another kiss to his mouth, then say, “Take me home.”
Chapter 37
Renzo
After I finish checking a shipment of Uzis, I walk to the office and take a seat on the couch.
Business is good, but I’m not making any progress with The Harvest. Servando Montes is nowhere to be found, and my patience is wearing thin.
I think he got wind of Enrique being killed and went into hiding.
The streets of New York are quiet, but my men are still on high alert and searching for anyone related to The Harvest.
It’s frustrating. I want to put this matter to bed and get on with my life.
My life which now includes Skylar.
Every day, she’s doing a little better. I’ve sorted out all the paperwork concerning Harlan’s estate and her finances and made it easy for her to handle them should something happen to me.
I’ve invested the bulk of her inheritance, and I’ll add the money from the sale of the mansion once it comes through.
I got her a cell phone, which she hardly uses. Her routine hasn’t changed much, and she spends most of her time in the kitchen.
I’ve been playing with the idea of firing Chef Alain and giving her the position of head chef at La Torrisi. It’s either that or I buy her a restaurant.
Climbing to my feet, I leave the office again and gesture to Vincenzo that we’re leaving. Whenever I have to go out, I leave Fabrizio with Skylar.
When she starts working again, I’ll assign guards to her. Maybe Carlo and Antonio.
“Where are we going?” Vincenzo asks.
“Home.”
As he drives us back to the penthouse, I dial Dario’s number to check in with him.
“What’s up?” he answers.
“Nothing. Just wanted to check in with you.”
“No news yet. The moment the fucker pops up, you’ll be the first to know,” he says, sounding preoccupied.
“Am I interrupting something?”
“No. I’m watching one of the ballerinas.”
My eyebrow raises, and the corner of my mouth lifts. “Watching or stalking?”
“Both.”
Letting out a chuckle, I can’t resist taunting him. “You gonna be her mystery man?”
It’s what Samantha called Franco when their relationship started.
“Nope, that’s Franco’s title.” He’s quiet for a moment, then says, “She knows I’m watching, and I think she loves it.”