Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90642 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Elena rolls her eyes. “Don’t give me the rich-girl routine. I’ve seen homeless people with more personal touches in their freaking tent than you have in your whole house.”
I cross my arms and give her a hard look. “If you care that much, you can decorate all you want when you move in.”
She goes very still. It’s like watching a deer realize there’s a hunter cocking back a rifle and aiming at its face. Her mouth opens slightly, her eyebrows up at her freaking hairline, and she looks around like she’s searching for hidden cameras.
“You think I’m… moving in here?” She blinks rapidly then laughs. “You’re insane. You’re joking, right?”
“Why the fuck would I joke about that?” I say through my teeth. Despite the lack of decorations, my house is one of the nicest in this whole neighborhood. It was renovated only a few years ago with all high-end shit like fancy appliances and granite countertops in the stinking bathroom. While it lacks personality, it definitely oozes expensive comforts.
“Because we’re going to live in the oasis.” She crosses her arms over her chest and her surprise begins to melt away. “You know that, right?”
“Let’s get something straight, wifey.” I take a step closer. “You’re mine now. Which means you live in my house.”
“Don’t give me some outdated caveman ideas about gender roles and all that crap.” Her hands wave in the air like she’s dismissing a thousand years of tradition with her fingertips. “The oasis is one of the safest places in the entire city. We’re living there.”
“Didn’t seem so safe when Santoro attacked it,” I bark at her and instantly regret it.
Her face shuts down. She goes rigid, her hands balling into fists, and I know I fucked up. I should not have mentioned that attack, because even I can tell the wounds are still very fresh and her family’s still trying to process what happened, but I couldn’t fucking help myself.
It’s the way she’s talking about my home. It’s not her fancy oasis, but my people and I worked very hard to carve out a section of the city where the Quinn organization and all the Irish families that depend on us can feel safe and welcome. Mt. Greenwood isn’t right on the lake, and it’s not in the heart of downtown, but it’s our southside paradise.
I don’t have a problem with the Biancos. I know they’re wealthy and powerful. That’s the whole damn point—I want Elena because she can take the Quinns to the next level.
But there was something in the way she looked at me that got under my skin.
And now I fucked up big time.
“I think this conversation is finished,” she says very quietly. “And I want you to take me back home.”
“Elena, hold on.”
“No, don’t start apologizing. You know you shouldn’t have said that, but you said it anyway and there’s no taking it back. I want to go home now, please.”
I take a deep breath. I’m tempted to drag her into my arms and let her squirm until she works the anger and the fight out of her system, but that won’t do much good. Instead, I gesture for her to follow, and we get back in the truck.
So much for our honeymoon. We drive back in dead silence. She glares out the window the whole time like she wants to kick the ass of everyone that walks past. Except I’m the only asshole she wants to beat up.
I park outside of her place. The oasis is still half-decorated from the party. The tables and chairs are gone, and the stage is packed away, but the fairy lights are still strung between the trees.
“Sometimes I’m too fucking proud,” I say before she can run off. She pauses, her hand on the handle, but she doesn’t look back at me. “I know where you come from. I see what you and your family have. I can’t give that to you. But my father built a strong business, and I’m going to make it even stronger, if I can stop insulting my own damn wife.”
Her shoulders are still tense. But she gives a little nod. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Then she’s gone. I watch her walk off.
There’s a knock at my window. I jump a little and roll it down. The young guard Matty’s standing there with a rifle slung under his shoulder and grinning at me. “She looked pissed. What’d you do?”
I roll my window back up. Matty laughs as I turn around at the far end and flip him off on my way out.
Chapter 12
Brody
Omar and Layla live in a nice house in a good neighborhood with a freshly mowed lawn and a pretty porch out front. Elena greets them like they’ve been best friends forever and they welcome the pair of us into their home with a surprising amount of warmth. Even Omar seems like he’s in a good mood.