Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“Yes. Have you seen her?”
The best way to lie to someone is to give them a few threads of truth.
“Yes, we were admiring the amethyst before I came in here. Just a brief conversation.” I sigh as if sad, as if I wish I could give him better news, and try to ignore the rapid beating of my heart. Was he watching us? Did he see her talking to me? Does he know she’s beneath this floor, hidden? “But I’m so sorry, I didn’t see where she went.”
Without a word, he turns to leave. Maybe he bought it, then.
Please, go. Go, go, go!
Against every good sense that I have, I continue to play my part. “Leaving so soon, sir? I’m happy to give you a reading.”
And I’m not fully lying this time. Though I want him to go, I imagine the feel of his heavy, masculine palm in mine. I’d feast my eyes on the tendons in his forearms, the corded muscles that I could imagine wrapped around me, while I—
But no, it’s only part of the innocent act.
“Maybe some other time,” he lies, as the curtain falls heavily behind him and he leaves. Good. I should be glad he’s left. I can breathe more easily now that he isn’t taking up all the air in here. Why do I stare at the swinging velvet with a vague feeling of disappointment?
I shake my head and stand. I’m unsure of the air quality in the little hidden passageway. What if she’s smothering to death in there? My hand itches to yank up the little carpet, but I can’t risk opening the trapdoor quite yet. I need to be sure he’s gone.
After I count a full sixty seconds silently, I pull aside the curtain and look to see if he’s really gone. Instead, I catch Amadeo’s furious gaze. If looks could kill… Thankfully, I see no other customers.
I hold up a finger to tell Amadeo I need just one more minute, but of course he doesn’t care about that. Ugh, no respect. He marches straight toward me and backs me into the small enclosure.
“Oh, there you are,” I begin, but he ignores me and instead grabs my wrist and begins to yank me as if to physically drag me out of the store.
“Let me go,” I hiss, fruitlessly trying to pull away from him. When he doesn’t budge, I try to step on his foot. “Let me go or I’ll tell on you to Romeo!” My oldest brother doesn’t like any man to put his hands on me, which is decidedly in my favor right about now.
“Oh, good,” Amadeo says. “How convenient. That’s exactly who I’m going to.”
I successfully stomp on his foot. He hisses out a breath and releases my wrists long enough that I’m able to run back into the little room.
"They don't pay me enough for this. They do not pay me enough for this!” Amadeo grunts behind me.
“I’ll tell Romeo to give you a raise,” I mutter as I open the door. It’s then that I realize it isn’t a storage room, but a ladder she’s standing on.
“You okay?” I ask her.
She nods, her eyes wide and terrified, and whispers two words that are impossible for me to ignore. “Help me!”
CHAPTER TWO
Marialena
Romeo pinches the bridge of his nose, closes his eyes, and exhales.
“Amadeo, you’re getting a raise,” he says. I nod in agreement. Yes, it sounds quite fair for Amadeo to get a raise even if he is a jerk. “Dario will be in Tuscany,” Romeo says thoughtfully, almost to himself. Dario, an inductee into The Family and newly married, has been assigned to a job in Tuscany. He and his wife leave the next day.
Wait. Why does he mention that? Is he thinking of sending me away? Again?
Romeo opens his eyes and shakes his head. He’s been looking older in recent years with hair graying at the temples, lines around his mouth, and eyes that remind me a little bit of my father. He’s nothing like my father though. Some call him harsh, yes, and he’s no pushover, that’s for sure. But he leads our family with honesty and loyalty and has never used any of my father’s bullying tactics.
“Marialena,” Romeo says on a sigh. He beckons for me to draw closer. I sit in the chair and fold my hands on my knees. I do feel badly that I’ve caused Romeo any grief. I didn’t mean to.
“Romeo,” I begin, but he holds up a hand to stop me. My brother may love me, but he is, at the end of the day, still the leader of the most feared mob family in all of New England. Maybe even the US, especially since we’ve joined forces with our cousins, the Montavios, and solidified our bond through marriage when cousin Vivia married Dario, a Rossi not related by blood.