Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 125962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
I’d grinned at that. What an interesting story that would turn in to.
I continued to work, continued to fight with Cristian about that work. He wanted me to be his in-house counsel. The prospect was enticing. The further I got into this world, the less and less interest I had for the one outside of it.
Jessica and I met for drinks a couple of times. Aiden was there, quiet, brooding behind the bar. I didn’t know how much had to do with me and how much that had to do with whatever was going on between them. I didn’t ask. Keeping a distance was better.
I knew I’d hurt Jessica, could see it in her face the last time we spoke. It was better for her. I was insulated against feeling too much guilt by knowing she was under the protection of the Catalanos. Still, as long as she was affiliated with us, she was in danger.
It was better this way.
I didn’t need company beyond Cristian. Felix. His presence soothed me. We shared chocolate cake on occasion. Aside from that, we shared nothing else but the memory of my wedding day.
I wasn’t surprised to find Marco in the kitchen when I got home from work. He was somewhat of a fixture. It was normal to have our table full at dinner. For men to come and go even if Cristian wasn’t home, which wasn’t often. He made a point to be there whenever I was home. If he wasn’t, Felix was there.
Marco was likely present because both of them were out. A meeting. One I’d hear about soon. “Hi, Marco. Did you get babysitting duty again?” I joked, placing my purse on the island before I headed to the fridge.
“Not a duty I mind at all.” He smiled as he always did. If I hadn’t been so distracted, I’d have noticed the tightness to the smile.
“I know my cooking skills leave a lot to be desired, but I can offer you string cheese,” I told Marco as I closed the fridge door.
Marco didn’t answer me. He was staring at the doorway with a measured intensity.
Something changed in the energy in the room. It was palpable, making my hairs stand up on end. Everything about Marco’s face changed, contorted.
“He doesn’t get to win,” Marco seethed, turning his attention back to me.
I frowned at his sudden change in demeanor, anger that I didn’t think he was capable of leaking out of his words. Not just anger, bitterness drenched in fury.
Warning bells started going off inside of me, but I stayed calm outwardly. Pregnancy hormones were legendary for fucking women up. God only knew what kind of hormones I’d be riddled with, considering I had a mix of mine and Cristian’s genetics inside of me right now. Maybe Felix’s too, with the timing of it all. Did Cristian do that on purpose? Make it so Felix finished inside of me on our wedding day? Surely he knew there was a chance he could be the one impregnating me. Or maybe he knew how uncommon it was to get pregnant so quickly after the pill. All of those thoughts were swirling in my mind, along with whatever the fuck Marco was talking about.
“What do you mean by that, Marco?” I asked, walking toward the sink, closer to where I’d left my purse on the counter. The purse with my gun.
“I mean, Cristian, the street rat should’ve been cast out the second Isabella died,” he hissed as his eyes turned to me. “That’s what any Don worth his salt would’ve done. He wouldn’t have taken him at his word. He would’ve understood there was a chance that it was him that killed Isabella. It’s always those closest you need to watch.”
I blinked at the usually jovial, old man. The one everybody loved. Trusted.
Who I suspected Isabella loved and trusted.
Until she didn’t.
He did it. I was utterly certain of that. Why he waited so long to strike again, I didn’t know. Maybe he didn’t have the opportunity. Maybe he’d tried to destroy the family on other occasions and was unsuccessful. Who could know? All I knew, all that mattered was that he had finally snapped.
He was going to talk. He was going to go into detail about what he’d done. What he deserved. And he was going to do it all before he killed me. A fault of men. They couldn’t just do what they needed to do. No, they needed an audience, approval first. Which was where I found my chance.
“All these years I’ve waited.” He raised his voice, standing from his spot at the breakfast bar. “For Cristian to love again. So I could take it from him.”
Marco reached into his blazer, for his gun. He wouldn’t give me a quick death. Nor would I grant one to him.