Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
For her, I'll burn it all to the fucking ground.
"The Rafe I know already is," Mattia says.
I glance at him.
"It doesn't have to be all or nothing, brother. It never had to be that way. Let her know the man I know," he says with a shrug. "That man has always been more good than anything, even if he was hellbent on proving otherwise."
I jerk my chin in a nod, grateful for the thousandth time for him and his counsel.
"Put Carmine on her," he suggests. "At least he pays attention."
Half an hour later, we walk into chaos.
Mattia and I both stop in the doorway, staring in shock as Amalia stands on the stairs, casually ordering my men about. Coda and Domani are nailing a family portrait above the mantel. Carmine and Vito are replacing lamps on the end tables. Zeno, Leone, and Mario wrestle a bookshelf into place in the living room. Antonio has a broom, attacking bits of dust with it. Marco is arranging flowers in a vase. There's an Afghan over the back of the sofa and a stack of books on the coffee table. Aside from the portrait, none of it belongs to me.
"Oh, hey," Amalia says, smiling brightly when she sees us. She practically dances down the stairs toward us, her tits bouncing in her shirt. "You would get here once the hard work is done."
"I wasn't aware we were doing any work, tesoro," I murmur, humor in my voice.
"Well, I'm not sure if you're aware of this either, but you basically live in a mausoleum," she says, wrinkling her nose in distaste. "It's cold and sad."
"Is it?" I reach for her when her feet hit the landing, reeling her in toward me. I don't give a fuck if my men are watching us. Let them. She's mine. I'll touch her whenever I want, wherever I want.
"We won't tell anyone you asked your designer for emo-chic," she says, patting me on the cheek.
I dig my fingers into her ribs, making her squeal with laughter.
Zeno startles, dropping his end of the bookcase.
Jesus. This place is like a mausoleum if a little laughter startles them. At least it was. It feels more like a home with Amalia in it than it has since my mother died. There's warmth here for the first time in twenty-seven years.
"I'm just kidding!" she cries.
"No, you aren't."
"No, I'm not," she agrees, laughing up at me. "Your house is depressing."
Fuck, she's beautiful.
I tip my head down, claiming her mouth in a hard kiss. She moans quietly, melting into me. Her soft body lands against mine, my dick raging to life. I wrap my arms around her, turning her so no one can see her like this. I kiss her until my raw nerves settle and then I reluctantly break off, unwilling to get carried away with her here and now.
I'm a jealous, possessive bastard. I'll own it. This part of her is mine.
Her mocha eyes flutter open, wide and glassy. Her cheeks stained pink. Her lips swollen from my kisses.
"Bellissima," I growl, my cock throbbing.
Her sweet smile damn near brings me to my knees.
Who is trying to get their hands on her? Who do I need to kill?
"She can change anything she wants to change," I say, raising my voice to ensure everyone in the living room hears me.
Her eyes light up. "What if I want to paint the place hot pink?"
"Do you?" I wouldn't put it past her, not because she has a particular affinity for the color, but simply to see if I'd let her get away with it. She likes testing her boundaries, likes to see how far I'm willing to let her go. This world is new to her. I'm new to her. I don't think she has any idea yet that there's very little I wouldn't do to please her.
All she really knows of me is the bullshit Diego has filled her head with and the rumors she's heard on the streets. I won't lie to her and say they aren't true. Like she said, there's a kernel of truth in most rumors. More than I'd like to admit, especially to her. But I'm just a man. When it comes to her, I'm fucking weak. That doesn't shame me.
But it does worry me. Already, my enemies plot to use her against me. I'll leave Chicago in ruins before I let it happen. She may be bringing me back to life, but I'm still the motherfucker this city loses sleep over. As soon as I find out who put a price on her head, I'll make an example of them no one will forget.
"Not particularly." She grins at me.
"Change whatever you want to change, mi reinita," I say softly, rubbing my thumb over her bottom lip. "This stopped being a home twenty-seven years ago. Maybe it's time to make it one again."