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)
“Does he make you happy, Sammie?” Dad asks.
“Yes, Dad. I’ve never been so happy before.” I take a deep breath, then admit, “He’s the one I want to spend my life with.”
Franco wraps his arm around my shoulders, and pulling me against his chest, he presses a kiss to my hair.
“Oh, sweetie,” Mom mutters with an emotional tone to her voice. “That’s all we want for you. If you feel he’s the one, we’ll accept him with open arms.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate it.” I clear my throat before I continue, “I have to go. I just wanted to tell you the good news.”
“Okay. We’ll talk again soon.”
I end the call, and rubbing my cheek against Franco’s suit jacket, I say, “I can’t wait to introduce you to my parents at Thanksgiving.”
“I can’t wait to meet them.”
I tilt my head back to look up at him. “Really?”
“Of course. They have to be incredible people for raising someone as strong, independent, and beautiful as you.”
“Aww…” I press a kiss to his jaw.
He rubs his palm up and down my bicep. “You didn’t tell them what happened.”
I shake my head. “They just think I broke up with Todd. I couldn’t break their hearts.”
Franco presses a kiss to my hair. “I hate that you had to deal with it on your own.”
I look up at him again. “Until you came along.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “I’m glad I could help.” His expression grows serious, then he says, “You can’t tell them I’m one of the heads of the Cosa Nostra.”
I didn’t even think about that.
Sitting up straight, I meet Franco’s eyes. “They’d freak out.”
“That too.” He rubs his hand up and down my back. “It’s for their safety as well. The less they know, the better.”
I nod as I let out a sigh.
Franco’s eyes narrow on my face, “Why does your mother think you hated me?”
Giving him a playful look, I say, “Because I told her you were an insufferable asshole.”
When I walk toward the sliding doors, Franco grabs my forearm and yanks me backward. I fall onto his lap, and he locks me against his chest with his arms.
“I was an insufferable asshole because you gave me attitude,” he grumbles.
I wrap my arms around his neck. “I gave you attitude because you were rude and grumpy.”
He presses a kiss to the tip of my nose. “I was grumpy because I was attracted to a woman who tried to drive me insane on a daily basis.”
Leaning closer, I smile against his lips. “Yeah? Did you fantasize about spreading me over your desk?”
Fire ignites in his eyes. “I had many fantasies about spanking your ass.”
I pull back and scowl at him. “You didn’t think about having sex with me? At all?”
He lets out a chuckle. “Baby, I’ve imagined fucking you in every possible position too many times to count.”
A satisfied smile lights up my face. “Good. I like knowing you were sexually frustrated because of me.”
I snuggle against his chest and let my eyes drift over the manicured garden.
Franco’s tone is soft when he asks, “Am I really the one you want to spend the rest of your life with?”
I nod as I close my eyes, soaking in how good this moment between us feels.
“Move in with me,” he murmurs.
“I’ll think about it.”
He lets out a chuckle. “Don’t keep me in suspense for weeks again.”
Chapter 41
Franco
When Renzo and the others follow me into the room, Miro’s eyes dart between us from where he’s tied to a chair.
With Samantha back at the office, I had the guys come over so we could put our plan in motion.
“I can see why he isn’t the head of the Slovak mafia,” Angelo mutters. “Why did he piss himself?”
Miro might be older than Ivan, but he doesn’t have the balls to run a criminal organization.
I let out a sigh. “Because he’s shit scared.”
“We didn’t even slap him around,” Renzo mutters.
“Let’s do this,” Damiano orders.
I hold out my hand, and Marcello passes me Miro’s phone. When I move closer to Miro, he starts to breathe faster, his eyes growing wide with fear.
“What’s the password for your phone?” I ask.
“T-three, nine, f-five, five, t-t-two,” he stammers.
I unlock the device, and checking the contacts, I find Ivan’s number and press dial.
I put the call on speakerphone as I move to stand behind Miro.
“Bál som sa!” Ivan snaps.
“Your brother is a little preoccupied,” I mutter.
“Ivan!” Miro shouts, which earns him a slap against the head from me.
“Quiet until you’re permitted to speak,” I growl.
There’s silence for a moment, then Ivan asks in a thick accent, “Who is this?”
“Really? You don’t even want to take a guess?” I say in a mocking tone.
“Vitale?”
“Bingo,” Dario chuckles.
“Is my brother alive?” Ivan barks.
“Yes, and he’d like to say hello.” Pulling my gun from behind my back, I tap Miro’s shoulder with the barrel. “Tell your brother how well we’re treating you.”