Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
I take my time turning around, having a feeling I know exactly where the vehicle is heading.
The three guards have to be in there with Alessio, and I know there’s very little chance that I’ll be able to kill him tonight, not that I want to.
I parallel park several blocks away, knowing I’ll die if I try to get a look at him walking up to the SUV holding his brother’s dead body.
There’s always a chance that the vehicle is gone since it’s been ten minutes or more since I left. The street guys around there could’ve easily had it moved in that time, but something tells me my luck is going to run out if Alessio already knows about Marcello’s murder. It makes me less confident in my ability to walk away right now. I was concerned that the woman would describe me, and Alessio would send his guys out hunting for me. If she can describe me, so can the people in the shadows I walked past after killing him.
My mind is racing with all sorts of scenarios as I wait, my gun ready to shoot anyone who approaches. What I won’t do is run. I set a plan into motion, and I have to see it through.
It shouldn’t have been so easy to kill the man. The license plates made me think I was on a suicide mission because there’s no reason my first gunshot should’ve been able to break the driver’s side window. The company is known for its armored cars, providing a much-needed service considering the number of criminals that funnel through the city.
It wouldn’t surprise me if the Severino family doesn’t put every man connected to the car rental place in the ground, but I refuse to feel guilty about that either. Complacency and secondhand association is just as bad as them being the men who deal guns and drugs to kids, as well as the traffickers who steal and rape men, women, and children.
I wait for nearly an hour in the dark, but no one approaches. It doesn’t mean I’m safe. I know how this will end. I know Alessio will more than likely smile down at my bleeding body, much the same way I was smiling when I pulled the trigger and ended his brother. It still feels like half of a victory, and before seeing them in the club tonight, that’s fifty percent more than I thought I’d ever get.
Chapter 6
Madelene
I register the shift in the air as someone pulls open my car door, but I can’t seem to pull my eyes from Marcello.
It has to be a dream. The monsters in my nightmares are never slain.
I’m jostled, blinking and opening my eyes to an irate Alessio.
“What the fuck happened?”
I blink again but this monster doesn’t disappear.
I don’t know how long it’s been since the man came out of the shadows before disappearing back into them just as quickly, after his task was done.
“Madelene! Fucking look at me. Who fucking killed my brother?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
Alessio, with his hands still holding me by the shoulders with a punishing grip, looks around as if someone knows the answers to all his questions.
I watch his face and the stages of anger as he tries to process what’s going on, crying out before I can stop myself when he pinches my face roughly at my cheeks, forcing me to look right at him.
“Who did this?”
“I don’t know,” I repeat, but the scowl on his face tells me my answer isn’t enough. “I didn’t recognize him.”
“What did he look like?”
“Blond hair,” I lie. “Bl-blue eyes. American.”
“What did he say?” Alessio snaps. “Did he say why?”
“He didn’t say anything.”
“Then how the fuck do you know he’s American?” he growls, making my pulse pound harder than the gunshot did.
“H-His watch. He demanded his w-watch,” I stammer, unsure why I’m lying. It isn’t my fault Marcello is dead, but I don’t think it will be received very well if I told him his only brother is dead because of a girl he killed while he was in high school.
“He’s still wearing his watch, boss,” one of the guys says from the other side of the vehicle.
Alessio’s cheek twitches as he looks at me harder.
“I think he got scared when the gun went off. I don’t think he meant to hurt him.”
Alessio’s grip grows more painful, but then he shoves me away, into the hands of one of the guards.
He doesn’t speak to me again. Before the guard can turn me away, I watch as the man I’m set to marry leans into the SUV on my side, with his arms on the top of the doorframe. He’s pissed, but he doesn’t seem sad. Did I get it wrong? Is he somehow involved? Did he come to Mexico against his father’s direction because it would be easier for someone to kill Marcello? Does he know exactly what the killer looks like and now he knows I’m lying?