Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“That’s going to be dangerous.”
He pulls on a pair of sweatpants and sits next to me on the end of the bed. I put my head on his shoulder. “Yeah, it will be.”
“I don’t want you to do it.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Seriously, Gian. I don’t want you to get killed for me.”
He’s silent for a second. Then he sighs and wraps an arm around me. “It’s not just for you. It’s also for my family. I’ve been… I’ve been distant for a while. I barely visited when I was out in Vegas. I lost touch with my roots, Allegra. Being back makes me remember how good it feels to be a part of something, and I want that for you.”
“I don’t know if this will fix anything.”
“Maybe it won’t, but it’s worth trying.” He breathes in like he’s smelling my hair.
“It’s crazy, but I don’t want you to do it anymore. This whole time, the only thing I could think about was fixing stuff with my dad and getting my old life back, but I’m not even sure I want it anymore.”
“What changed?”
“This.” I kiss him softly. “But also things with your family. I’m starting to feel… welcome.”
He smirks at me. “You’re replacing your asshole father with my older brother, huh?”
“If anyone’s my daddy, it’s you.”
He laughs as he hugs me tight and I grin at him, feeling stupid but happy. I stay in his arms for a while, but we break apart, and his smile is gone.
“I still have to do it,” he says, walking over to his dresser. He pulls a drawer open and fishes around for something. I stare at the gun he removes. The slide yanks back and snaps forward with a click. He checks the magazine and shoves it back into the handle. “Sometimes what we want and what we need aren’t the same. Maybe this is one of those times.”
“Which means what?”
“You might not want your family back, but we fucking need them to win this war.” He shoves the gun into his sweatpants. I’ve never seen a more glorious sight: Gian, shirtless, torso still damp from the shower, muscles tense from fucking me, gun in the waistband, sweats pulled down low. I didn’t know I was into the macho stuff, but my nipples are instantly stiff. “Now, I want some wine. What do you think?”
“I think if you keep coming inside of me without a condom, you’ll be drinking for two.”
“I won’t complain one bit.”
Chapter 38
Gian
We park outside of an apartment complex in a suburb right outside of the city. A train station is fifty feet away, the lights too bright. It’s the middle of the night and the town’s quiet, but I keep waiting for a cop to come rolling past anyway.
“This is the place.” Carlo nods at the building. It’s an ugly structure. Red brick, blocky, with little balconies and black bars over the windows.
“You sure they’re here?”
“The Russians have a safehouse in one of the apartments. I’m not positive the Irish guys are hiding inside, but my sources say they were spotted around here.”
“Fucking suburbs.” I lean my head back, considering. “There are going to be civilians in there.”
“No kidding.”
“Our family’s influence doesn’t stretch out this far.”
“Thought of that already.” He shoves a black ski mask into my hands. “Wear that.”
I hold it up dubiously. “Seriously? Like we’re some fucking stereotypical bank robbers? Might as well be stockings.”
“Oldest trick on the book and still works.” He yanks his own mask over his face. “You want to sit out here and complain all night or are we doing this?” He raises his gun and makes sure it’s loaded.
I hesitate, but pull on my own mask. It’s scratchy and hot. My gun’s a reassuring pressure in the small of my back.
We go over the plan. There are two more cars of Rossi soldiers, all of them loyal to Carlo, and all of them seasoned fighters. He and I go in first, followed by a small crew to make sure we don’t get hit in the back. Another crew watches the exits in case someone tries to escape. We break into the apartment, clear it fast and hard, drag the Irish fuckers out to the car, and escape before the cops show up.
“And the cops will show up,” Carlo says as if I didn’t already know. “We’d better be fast.”
I step out of the car and Carlo follows. Once we’re in the parking lot, there’s no turning back. There are bound to be security cameras around here. If not on the apartment building then at the train station. I hurry toward the entrance and pause before kicking it open. It’ll be locked, and we didn’t try to figure out a way through.
Carlo just grins at me and presses every single intercom button. Most don’t respond—it’s past midnight and most people are asleep—but a few sound sleepy and pissed. After a second, the door unlocks with a loud snap. I have no clue who hit the button.