Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 59448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59448 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 238(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
“Yes, you are! Don’t you see, you’re those women’s only hope!” I shout, my hands out in front of me as if I’m holding a mirror for Romeo to see just how powerful he is.
“I’m not the Don of New York, everything in this city goes by my father. If I even make a step toward that ring, he’ll know and shut me down,” he informs.
Leaning up on my knees, I grab his face, his breath quickens as our eyes meet.
“You are so much more than that. You can be the Don, you can be king of New York. You just have to believe it. Just like I believe I can save those girls, that I can save myself.”
He closes the small gap between us and kisses me again. I close my eyes and kiss him back.
We’re going to do this. Together.
“So, what are you going to do?” I whisper against his lips.
“Save the fucking day.” He smiles before deepening the kiss.
11
Romeo
Standing in the kitchen, eating a banana, I contemplate everything Luna just said.
How she was left in that state hospital, her foster family selling her. She’s been betrayed by everyone she’s ever known, and now she wants revenge. I don’t blame her.
I could do it for her, she’s right, I do have the resources to make her desire a reality. I guess I just never saw myself as anything other than the other son. Kieran always took the jobs Dad ordered, and I went along and did my part.
I finish my banana and toss the peel into the overflowing trash next to the kitchen island. My feet picking up crumbs and dirt, I decide it might be a good time to turn on the robot vacuum. I don’t have a maid, I don’t like people in here in my space before Luna came along, so the closest thing I have to house cleaning is the Roomba. Grabbing the remote, I turn it on and hear the little motor start up as it begins sweeping up the hardwood floors. Crossing my legs, I place my hand on the counter and watch the robot move about as I think about the dangerous job I’m contemplating.
Where do we even start?
Actually, where do I start, I don’t want Luna to do this. It’s too risky. What if we go in there over our heads? Not only will they have a field day with me being the son of Emilio DeAngelo, but they’ll take Luna back into the ring. A place I don’t think many women escape, if at all. Her captors will take it out on her, making what she thought was a rough life look like a walk in the park. She won’t be invisible anymore.
The rain splashing against the window from a hard side wind has me staring at it, rivulets of water rushing down the glass. It’s been raining all day.
The sound of dainty little footsteps has me look up to find Luna coming out of my room with freshly washed hair and wearing a light pink silk robe that I got her. She sits on a stool, resting her head on her hand, her brows furrow. My eyes fall to her lips, I just want to lie in bed and stare at them all day. To have my hands explore her body and feel her skin against mine. But I’ll never admit it, not out loud. I’ve never been scared of anything in my life, but the things she’s making me feel lately. They terrify me. What will life be like when this job is over and she can be on her own? Out there, without me. What will I do? Will I long for an actual relationship now that I’ve experienced a taste of it? Or will I just gag Denise more, wanting to get farther away from it?
“I can hear you thinking,” she says with a little sarcasm, and I smirk. She’s come a long way in just a couple days.
“Just about your plan,” I reply, opening the fridge, I grab the gallon of milk and take a large swig. It helps wash down the banana, but I need something stronger to help shift this plan into action. Putting the gallon back into the fridge, my eyes sweep across my wet bar, the need for a drink growing stronger by the second, before meeting her gaze.
“I just. I really don’t want you a part of this,” I explain.
Her face doesn’t change. She’s not budging. She’s being fucking stubborn.
“Flower, I’ve seen you hold a gun and—”
“Wait, what’d you call me?” she interrupts me.
I re-track my words, unsure of what I said.
“You called me… flower?” she says with an unreadable tone.
I did? I did. What the fuck is happening to me? Now I have a pet name for her?
Rounding the island, I reach for a glass on the wet bar and pour myself a small drink. Neither of us saying anything as I finish it in one swallow and set it back down. Turning, my hands behind me on the bar, I inhale.