Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 32664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32664 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
It only takes minutes for the host to return, and his previously stuffy expression has been replaced with something serious and heavy. "Follow me, ma'am."
I'm taken aback, surprised at his sudden change in attitude, but I follow him obediently, winding between the tables until we come to a staircase that leads upwards. "Mr. Falcone is on the fourth floor in his office," he explains. "This way."
He doesn't say another word, leading me up the stairs and down a hallway, stopping at the door at the end of the hall.
"Wait here."
He disappears into the room, and I stand, waiting, hoping. After a moment, the door opens, and the host reappears. "Go right in."
"Thank you."
"Good luck," he whispers, before disappearing down the hallway and leaving me alone.
I step inside the door, and the first thing that hits me is the smell. Everywhere else in this place just smells of decadent food, but this room is different. It smells masculine and rich, and the moment the smell hits my nose, my core starts to pulse.
And that's before I see the man sitting behind the desk, and the world shifts beneath my feet.
He's different from any man I've ever seen. Even sitting down it's clear that he's enormous, shoulders and arms filling out a perfectly tailored black suit. His dark hair is parted on the side and combed back, slightly silver at the temples, the same color as the five o'clock shadow on his jaw. A strong nose, thick eyebrows, and full lips make up a face that's both attractive and terrifying. But when he looks up, my breath is stolen away.
His eyes are so brown they’re almost black, but when he shifts and the light hits them just right, they seem to glow, like an animal's eyes in the dark. Meeting his gaze, it feels like a tether shoots from him and connects somewhere deep inside of me, pulling me towards him helplessly. My core pulses again, and I'm shocked that I can be turned on at a time like this!
"Have a seat."
His voice is deep, and I obey, sinking into the chair across from him, feeling tiny and vulnerable. He's studying me, looking me up and down, and I don't know whether I should shrink back or sit up taller.
"You're Daisy Linden."
"Y-yes, I am," I manage, swallowing hard. "How did you know?"
He doesn't answer me. "And you have something to tell me about my son?”
"Yes, sir."
Dominic leans back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap. He's so calm, his posture relaxed, and the complete opposite of the storm that's raging inside me. It's unsettling.
"What happened, Miss Linden?"
"It's...it's a long story," I tell him. "I met your son a few months ago, and we were seeing each other. Dating. We broke up, and it was fine. But I didn't realize who he really was."
Dominic raises an eyebrow, a hint of surprise flickering across his expression. "And who is he, Ms. Linden?"
"A drunk," I sputter out, not sure if I should be more respectful considering this is Carlo's father. But if I want help, I shouldn't hold anything back. "A gambler and a liar. He's convinced I've stolen money from him, and now he's trying to kill me!"
This causes the first real reaction in Dominic. Clearly what I've said has surprised him, which I bet is pretty hard to do. His shoulders go stiff, and I hear a surprised intake of breath before he composes himself once more.
"Ah," Dominic says, and for a moment, he's quiet, tapping his finger against the desk as he thinks. "I can assure you that Carlo would never try to kill anyone. He's a hothead, a spoiled child, but he wouldn't take a life."
"He's not himself," I argue. "He's not sober. He's drunk all the time, and it makes him..."
Angry. Violent. Cruel.
"It's alright," Dominic says, as if sensing my discomfort. "Go on."
"It's just like I said," I tell him, trying not to break down into tears. "I'm being followed by him and his goons. They attacked me tonight. I came here because I didn't know where else to go or who else to ask for help. He's crazy, and he wants to kill me. Please, Mr. Falcone, can you help me?"
Dominic studies me, and the air is heavy and tense, as if the fate of the world is hanging in the balance, and for a moment, it feels like it is. "First, why would you even think to come to me?"
"He told me that Il Fiore Raro is your restaurant. He hates you. I figured you're the only person he might actually be afraid of."
A flicker of something passes over his expression, and he nods, a small, slow smile forming on his lips. "That is true, Miss Linden. You've got a smart head on your shoulders. Normally, I would send you on your way and let Carlo's business stay Carlo's business, but I can't stand a man who dares to threaten a woman, not even my own son. I'll deal with him and his friends."