Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 84219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
I grab the extra stool, and taking a seat near her head, I take her hand and press a kiss to her knuckles before I lock eyes with her.
“How are you holding up?” I ask.
She sucks in a deep breath, and instead of answering my question, she whispers, “Don’t let go of my hand.”
“I won’t,” I assure her before I nod at Dante to begin.
The moment he wipes the area clean, she jerks and her fingers tighten around mine.
I see panic flare in her eyes, and bracing my other arm at the top of her head, I move so close to her that I can feel her breath warming the balaclava.
“You’re doing great, baby.”
She nods, and I notice she’s holding her breath.
“Breathe,” I murmur close to her mouth.
Dante pulls away from her, and she sucks in a deep breath.
“I’m just going to prep the area,” Dante warns her.
This time Samantha doesn’t jerk when he touches her, and it makes me so fucking proud of her.
At this moment, I don’t think about the hell that broke loose today and the war I’ll have to fight in the coming weeks.
There’s only Samantha and how brave she is.
Chapter 21
Samantha
Standing in front of my full-length mirror, I hold my shirt up so I can see the tattoo.
Dante did a fantastic job. I can’t even make out any of the scars.
Todd’s name is buried beneath the words ‘stronger than ever,’ and I never have to see the scars again.
Feeling very emotional, a tear trickles down my cheek.
Just as I’m managing to deal with the trauma Todd inflicted on me, I have to face what happened yesterday.
With a tired sigh, I lower my shirt and walk to where my luggage is waiting in the living room.
Needing to get out of New York, I changed my flight from Saturday to today.
As I pick up my handbag, my phone starts to ring, and I dig it out. When I see Mr. Vitale’s name flashing on the screen, my body is doused in ice.
He’s no longer Mr. Vitale, my grumpy boss, but Franco Vitale, one of the ruthless heads of the Cosa Nostra.
He’s a killer.
Instantly fear bleeds through me, and my hand trembles as I swipe across the screen to answer the call.
“Y-yes, sir?”
“Morning, Miss Blakely. How are you today?” his voice rumbles over the line.
God, he sounds aggressive.
“F-fine,” I stammer.
“I see you’ve changed your flight, and you’re heading to Seattle today.”
An intense cloak of dread wraps around me.
He’s watching my every move.
Not only is the man above the law, but he’s able to get my information from an airline. It registers just how powerful he is and that I don’t stand a chance against him.
“I…I…I –”
“Get a lot of rest because when you’re back at the office, you’ll have to fix everything Gloria fucks up while you’re gone.”
That’s his way of telling me I better return to work.
His tone sounds downright dangerous as he adds, “Enjoy your time with your family.”
Is he threatening to kill my family?
Thorns of fear prick at my skin, and the words just fall over my lips, “Don’t hurt my family. Please. I’ll be back on the eighth.”
He lets out an annoyed-sounding sigh. “It wasn’t a threat, Miss Blakely. I won’t touch your family. You need the break, and I hope you enjoy your vacation.”
Oh.
When I keep quiet, he adds, “I don’t kill innocent people, and I’ll never hurt you.”
Too brave for my own good, I ask, “What will happen if I resign as your assistant?”
“I won’t accept your resignation, Miss Blakely. Have a safe flight. I’ll see you on the eighth of July.”
The call ends, and lowering my trembling hand, I watch as the screen goes black.
Shoving the phone into my handbag, I grab my luggage and rush out of my apartment. As if all the demons from hell are chasing me, I hurry to the subway.
I need to get away from New York and the Cosa Nostra. In Seattle, I’ll be able to think clearly and make sense of the mess I find myself in.
When I walk through the doors at the airport, Mom catches my attention by jumping up and down.
During the six-and-a-half-hour flight, I focused on calming myself down, but as I walk to my mother, my emotions are all over the place, and I can’t stop the tears from falling.
When I reach her, we hug, and I cling to my mother.
She notices I’m crying and coos, “Aww, sweetie. What’s wrong?”
“I just missed you.”
It’s only half a lie. I did miss her.
She pulls back, and smiling at me, she wipes my tears away with the pads of her thumbs. “You need to visit more often.”
I nod, and as we walk to the exit, I say, “If I had more vacation time, I would.”
When we reach Mom’s Prius, I feel a little better.