Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58691 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 235(@250wpm)___ 196(@300wpm)
Down the wooden docks I pass the ropes that tie off each boat, the smell of fish stronger than at Bonnet shore. My eyes land on the yacht and anger instantly starts to breed inside of me. I want to step foot on the boat and start shooting without asking questions, but I was trained better than that. I’ll give my father a chance to explain, then kill him.
Matteo is standing position on the boat, and I pat him on the shoulder.
“He’s not here,” he tells me, and my head snaps back.
“Where is he?”
His eyes squint, the look on his face conveying I’m not going to like what I’m going to hear.
“I’m supposed to tell you to go inside, your uncles have the intel,” he explains. Looking at the double tinted doors that are shut, I grab onto the silver handle and slide it open.
My uncles all sit on the couch in waiting. Tony, Gio, and Leo.
“Where is he?” I cut to the chase.
“Sit, Kieran,” Gio says, his hand full of golden rings pointing to the one open chair. Giving him a stern look, I sit. But I’m ready to kill every one of them as well, if my father’s done something then they’re in on it.
“Your little bride to be, she ain’t what you think,” Tony says, adjusting his hideous orange flower shirt.
“What do you mean?” I entertain his bullshit.
Gio tosses a manila envelope at me, landing in my lap. Opening it, I pull out black and white photos of Leona talking to a man.
“That’s a detective, my boy. She can’t be trusted, she was seeking witness protection before you showed up,” Gio explains further. Rubbing my chin with my palm, I instantly feel numb. The gorgeous face of Leona pixeled on the photo, making me want to doubt what I’m seeing, but it’s clear as day. She knows shit about Omerta.
“Yeah, all she needed was information on you to get it,” Leo says, his face flushed before taking a drink from his glass tumbler.
Letting the pictures slide to the floor, I stand.
“Where are you going?” Tony questions.
I don’t answer him. I’m going to Leona, fuck my father and my uncles. Leona is going to fucking explain this shit. My chest begins to hurt thinking about the photos, about how she smiled and kissed me at the cabin. It was all for show, to get in my head.
Baring my teeth, I nearly yank the door off the hinges to get in my car.
I fucking told her about the bowling alley killing.
“Goddamn it!” I shout, pounding my fist on the steering wheel I throw my Escalade in reverse and head back toward that lying little bitch!
Leona
“I’m surprised you didn’t show up,” I tell Dominic, I figured when I left he’d be close by.
“Your grandmother told me if I didn’t let you go, she’d have me killed.” He shrugs, saying it casually. I smirk. I can’t help but wonder if she knew that Kieran and I would connect if everyone was out of the picture. Speaking of which.
“Where is Grandma?” I look to my mother.
“Sleeping. She naps a lot since you’ve been gone,” she replies softly.
The doorbell rings and all of us turn our heads to men yelling. The door slams, and I stand.
The guard that was at the door coming into the kitchen first, and a man I’ve never seen before pushing a gun into his back. Just when I thought I saw the worst of it, in comes Emilio. Kieran’s father. His dark hair is the same shade as his son’s, the eyes almost similar but Kieran’s are brighter.
“We need to talk.” Emilio smiles, pulling out a chair and taking a seat uninvited.
“Where is Kieran?”
“Who?” Emilio looks at me as if I’m a ditz, playing stupid. He knows exactly who I’m talking about. Oh God, did he kill him? Ringing in my ears as I grasp the table for stability, my eyes never leaving DeAngelo Devil at my dinner table.
“I’m here to tell you little miss, you don’t want to marry my son.”
I don’t indulge in whatever he’s getting at. This whole thing was set up by him, and now he doesn’t want me to marry him. Why? What’s he up to?
“Why, what’s going on?” My grandmother’s voice heard from behind me before she walks fully into the room and sits at the table amongst us. She reaches over, giving my hand a squeeze. She’s missed me.
“I don’t want to cross my son, I love him. He’s my favorite, but things have come to light that would make it hard for me to sleep at night if I didn’t come clean about,” he says, waving his arms about and I scoff at his statement.
His eyes glued to mine, I can see it inside him, he wants to lash out at my disrespect. But he’s put on a mask of some innocent man here to do what’s right. He can’t go against character.