Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56680 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“Drink?” Vito says.
“No, thank you. Just water.”
“Two glasses of champagne,” Vito says. “Thank you.”
“I don’t want—”
“Settle down,” he snaps, his tone more vicious again now the waitress is gone. “Just try to be friendlier, Mia. More approachable. More sociable. Smile and talk about how nice the restaurant is and things like that.”
I tilt my head, talking in a robotic voice. “Wow, how bright and wonderful this is. What ambiance it has. This is the best experience of my life.”
“You’re seriously pushing it, girl.”
“Girl? You’re like three years older than me.”
“You’re a nineteen-year-old little idiot,” Vito says, not realizing he sounds like a petulant child. “But you’ll see.”
“I’m not drinking that champagne.”
He leans in again. “You’ll drink what I tell you to drink. Or I’ll gut you like the last whore.”
I gasp, and he smirks, leaning forward, his voice getting low and ugly. “Do you think your little games were the only thing your dad did, Mia? We’ve had a lot of fun, and the next bit, you naïve, stupid little girl, involves you.”
He laughs when I spring to my feet. Worms crawl all over my skin. Shock pounds in my heart and threatens to break my skull apart. Panic makes me run for the exit. Vito is behind me, following me into the hallway and out the fire exit. I suck in big mouthfuls of air.
“Stop messing around Mia,” he snaps. “The sooner you learn, the easier it’ll be.”
I walk across the parking lot. It’s quiet. Just my footsteps, just my heart thumping. Games. All that trauma turned into games. Suddenly, he’s behind me. He spins me around, his eyes wild as he glares at me. He’s got this smug look, the one Dad gets. Eyes that say, Nobody and nothing can judge me for what I’m about to do, and nobody can stop me.
“Settle down, Mia,” he whispers, sliding his hands down my body and trapping my arms against me. “Just… settle down.”
Then he shoves me back against the wall. I gasp when I feel his strength. I try to push away from him, but it’s like trying to push against solid rock. He laughs wildly, trying to move his hand down to my hip. I squirm against him.
“No… stop… Get away from me!”
CHAPTER 9
Dante
I run across the underground parking lot, my focus clear, all the confusing thoughts drifting away. There’s no headache. Nothing is stopping me. My purpose is to keep Mia safe, and this rat, this bastard, this mongrel, this, this…
I loop my arm around his neck and tighten it right away, pulling him backward. He gasps and starts clinging onto my arm, but I keep walking back, sinking in a choke and squeezing him so hard, squeezing as he kicks his legs and makes gasping noises. Then he goes for his pocket.
Dammit. He’s got a knife. I throw him to the ground and kick him in the side of the head. He grunts and collapses on the ground, his hand still in his pocket. I watch, waiting for him to move, as blood pools around him, more and more spilling out until I realize.
Violence is a wild, unpredictable thing. Sometimes, a man can get shot through the head and survive. Other times, a kick to the head…
Mia is shaking, staring down at Vito. She opens her mouth as if to let out a scream. I dart forward and slip my hand over her mouth. She screams into my palm. I can feel the heat of her breath, see the terror in her eyes. She screams even louder, her eyes going wide.
“Mia, stop,” I growl. “Stop.”
She’s shuddering all over, almost screaming again. I shake my head. “You need to listen. You talked about disappearing. It’s time we made that happen until I figure out what to do.”
She pulls away from me, shaking her head.
“You have to,” I growl. “You have to come with me.”
Possession enters the urgency in my voice. It’s knowing I have to keep her safe. It’s knowing I can’t get caught either. Ma needs me.
She tries to speak.
“Don’t scream,” I snap.
She nods, and I slowly move my hand away. She speaks in a low, raspy voice. “He’s duh-dead. Just let me go, okay? Just let me go? Elio will understand. Luca will—”
“No,” I snap. “This is Family business. The West Coast Marinos. I need time.”
I wrap my arm around her, holding her against me with ease, letting her feel how much stronger I am. Even now, I have to ignore the burning tower of desire in my jeans telling me to feel the shape of her body. Her thickness feel so right against me.
She presses her face against my chest, or maybe I guide her there. Then I lean down and lift her up, holding her against my chest like a husband holds a wife when he walks her across the threshold. She gasps and throws her arms around me.