Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
The car comes to a stop in front of the house, and I grip the door handle firmly, turning to Amara. Her eyes are full of mystery, and I can’t really tell what it is she’s thinking about. “Keep those beautiful lips shut, or…”
“Or you’ll shoot me? Tie a brick to my ankle and throw me in the ocean?” she mocks, eyebrow raised.
Smiling, I say, “No. I’ll fuck you to death.” I slip from the car and head to her side and open the door to allow her out. She takes my hand when I offer it to her. Her feet hit the ground, and she takes a brief look around.
“Lorenzo…” I hear my name being said as I direct Amara to where it is I want her.
“Luccio,” I greet him in return. He smiles, his eyes eating up Amara’s body. Something inside me rouses, I’ve never been the type to be jealous, but the way he is looking at what belongs to me is rubbing me the wrong way. I feel possessive of her. I feel like she’s mine.
“What is the occasion?” he asks, amused, not showing any worry. He should be. He should be scared shitless right now. I’m the monster that hides under your bed, waiting for the moment your breath evens out, and your eyes close to attack. Little does he know, he unleashed this monster all on his own.
“Just business. I would like to have a word with you.” His eyes dart back to Amara’s, and I know he’s asking, what the fuck is she doing here? That’s not his problem, though.
“What about her?” He lifts his chin toward Amara.
“What about her?”
His eyes narrow at my attempt at humor. “Does she know?” I watch as Amara looks between us both, completely confused, and utterly oblivious about what is about to take place.
“Leave her be. Let’s go, Amara.” My hand lands on the small of her back, and I lead her into Luccio’s home. The walls are littered with family photos that go back hundreds of generations. His house oozes I-have-money-and-you-know-it. We walk across marble flooring with gold rivets as we pass through the foyer, and head to the first door on the left. It’s his office just as I knew it would be. The door opens and closes behind us quietly as I guide Amara to a seat.
“I haven’t gathered any new information, Enzo. I told you if I found out anything else, I would contact you.”
I smile smugly at his comment. The knife on my ankle feels heavy, as does the gun on my back. Heavy with the need to release bullets in this lying fucker’s ass.
“That’s not why I’m here, actually. See, a very fat and short man came to my house. Unwanted, of course. You know how I get about people who trespass, right?” I watch the blood drain from his face, and I know he had something to do with it. Someone such as him can’t hide from me. He is out for something, and I want to know what it is.
“It wasn’t me,” he immediately claims. My attention slides from him to Amara, who is sitting in one of the chairs. She looks clueless to the whole situation.
“Really? Because the moment before I slit his throat and watched him bleed out, he told me he was a member of your group…” I say, looming over him. He is sitting behind his desk, attempting to look dumbfounded, it’s not working, though. I’m not a dumb man, and I won’t be made to look like one either.
I reach down and pull the knife out. He has about five minutes before I slit his throat open. “Talk…” I growl, pointing the knife at him. I know he thinks I won’t do it, that I don’t have the balls to kill someone I have known for the better part of my life. The person who helped raise me when I lost all my family. It really is sad that I have to be threatening him at all. But lies are piling up, and in the end, you have to protect yourself above all else.
“He-he was sent to see about her…” His eyes move to Amara’s, and her mouth gapes open as if in shock. I’m not much further behind her. I’m a bit shaken up as to what that man would’ve wanted with Amara. No one even knows that I took her, except her father, but I don’t expect him to do much talking. After all the problems he caused, I assume he will stay on the back burner for a while. Maybe I’m wrong?
“What did he want with her?” I ask, dangerously close to putting the blade of this knife in his forehead. There is a pregnant pause, and I grow angrier as time stands still. These people have no need to know why I have her, what I am doing with her, or who she is. Coming around the desk, I slip behind his chair, my hand gripping his mop of hair, I pull him back and place the knife blade at his neck. His eyes peer into mine.