Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Call it twin telepathy, but she catches the warning I don’t have to speak or express, and that smile comes right back. “I was about to send a team after proof of life,” she teases, wrapping me in a hug. “Are we planning a murder?” she whispers.
“Not yet,” I breathe back, both of us hold on for a moment longer than necessary, remembering the last time we saw each other was when our dad was out to kill her guy and give her to the man who was supposed to be mine.
The man who still has a certain, dark-haired ex under his arm.
God, this is so humiliating. How am I supposed to explain this in a way that will keep my family’s weapons hidden beneath their cocktail attire?
“What’s with the shoes?” Rocklin wonders aloud as she turns toward Enzo and his other date.
I tense, waiting for her reaction, certain it will be a glare if not a second dagger thrown, making a twin-like mark to match mine. Rocklin does neither of those things.
My sister smiles, and to my horror, it’s real. “Katana! He finally let you out of the house.”
Lead, cold and heavy, fills my body and I sway a little.
She knew?
She fucking knew?!
Is that why she was so against my setting up this marriage? Because she knew he already had a wife?
My jaw clenches, fists too, and I dart forward, ready to become the official bitch of the ball, but then a dark shadow falls over me.
I whip around.
“Dad!” I gasp, closing the distance and throwing myself in his arms.
His chuckle is soft, his arms strong as they come around me, tucking me into his embrace. “Beeks.” The break in his voice almost brings tears to my eyes.
So much is said without a word, but I guess maybe it’s always been that way in our family. It kind of has to be when a typical Tuesday consists of an entire crew sweeping your home for planted recording devices and more. Endless enemies, and all that.
I breathe a sigh of relief I didn’t know I was holding.
He’s alive and in one piece. Better than that, he’s here, so superseded in his position or not, Rayo Revenaw still holds respect in his name. As he should.
“So, Enzo didn’t murder you after all,” I joke.
My dad scoffs a laugh, rubbing his hands down my arms as he steps back. “I hate to admit he could have, but he got what he wanted and left me to the wolves of my own making.”
My father takes a step away in the same second that Enzo’s presence washes over me. His hand snakes out, pressing to my lower back and turning me so I’m not directly facing my father.
My dad fights a scowl and looks beyond us.
“Katana,” he dips his head. “Nice to finally meet you. I hope you’re not giving my daughter too much trouble. I imagine it’s quite an adjustment for you, having her there.”
A harsh breath whooshes past my lips and I wrench away from Enzo.
His eyes darken in warning, but I’m two seconds from flipping the fuck out.
Was I the fool? Did they let this play out to prove I’m the idiot they claimed I was for seeking out “The Ghost,” as the underworld calls him, in the first place?
I must be.
Enzo dips his head, taking slow, threatening steps my way. “It is not. Katana spent many years in an all-girls’ boarding school. She’s accustomed to housemates. Right, sister?”
Cold shock washes through me the moment the lie rolls off his tongue, and I meet my sister’s gaze by mistake. Hers narrows slightly, but I look away, primed to escape, but Enzo is prepared for that and grips my hand with a harsh squeeze. His other reaches for Katana and I have the urge to cry in frustration.
This arrangement was supposed to be the turning point in my life. This was supposed to pull me from under my sister’s shadow and cast me in a new light, if only so I could live without the never-ending comparison to my effortlessly flawless twin. Purpose. Marrying Enzo was supposed to take my pointless existence and give me purpose, even if my only role was the outdated ideals of what a crime boss’s wife is supposed to be.
“Oh, yeah.” Clearly eager to please the man we came here with tonight, Katana plays along with Enzo’s bullshit. “What’s one more woman to…share with?”
This bitch.
I jerk, already anticipating the satisfaction of tearing the tiara right from her head, with a solid handful of hair still attached, is about to offer, but Enzo’s grip tightens on me just as fast, halting me.
Katana’s eyes meet mine and I silently promise to put a dart through her face. She giggles, a gross, girly sound, and slides her arm through Enzo’s outstretched one.