Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 151410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
I hung my head, the alcohol really taking effect now that my adrenaline and blood lust had ebbed away. I was battling unconsciousness. Dammit. The sound of police sirens made me tense.
“Fuck it,” Fabiano muttered as he stepped inside, pushing a chopped-off calf out of the way with the bottom of the door.
I lifted my head to meet his gaze, even if it felt too heavy.
Fabiano stood in the center of the bar, still in his wedding suit, and he looked royally pissed.
I grinned crookedly as Fabiano turned around himself to take in the full scope of the mess. “I thought you’d bring Luca along. Doesn’t honor dictate it?”
Fabiano slanted a look over his shoulder, grimacing. “Luca is the groom’s father. He shouldn’t have to deal with this tonight.”
“You came without a watchdog from the Famiglia?” I asked.
“He came with me,” Matteo said as he stepped up to Fabiano, with his manic shark-grin.
Fabiano stalked over to me, trying not to get blood on his beige leather shoes. No chance.
“You should have worn other shoes,” I said, pointing at my black dress shoes. They were probably ruined too, considering how squishy the inside felt, but you couldn’t see it at first glance.
“Thanks for the advice. I don’t know why I thought you’d act halfway human on a night like this.”
“You mean the night Amo fucking Vitiello takes Greta away from us?”
“He’ll probably take her virginity too,” Matteo said with a hard smile.
I tightened my hold on the samurai sword and was about to push to my feet. But Fabiano kicked his heel down on the sword at an angle that broke the blade apart. Now, I held a short zig-zag sword in my hands. “I can still kill him with this, probably even create a messier and more painful result.”
“Messier than this fuck show?” Fabiano growled, looking like he wanted to stab me with the samurai sword. He looked even more murderous than Matteo, come to think of it. He grabbed my arm tightly and jerked me up. I let him because I was fucking tired and just wanted to nap. “Drop the sword,” he hissed, and I did even that.
He began patting me down and pulled green panties from my pockets. His eyebrows rose. For a moment, I considered asking him if he knew who those belonged to, but I’d already had enough fun tonight.
“If you fucked one of our women, I’ll really enjoy slicing you up,” Matteo said, who kept his distance from me, probably because he worried he’d actually choke me with his bare hands if he came close, though that move was more Luca’s style.
“The only fun I had tonight was this.” I motioned around myself. “But I’d be up for a post-kill fuck if you have someone in mind.”
“Nobody wants to fuck you in the state you are in,” Fabiano growled, dragging me toward the exit. Again, a stupid comment lay on the tip of my tongue. It wasn’t self-preservation that stopped me, though. Funnily enough, I didn’t want to talk like that about Rory, even if it was in jest.
“You can thank me later for getting rid of the police,” Matteo said as we passed him.
“Thanks. That’s what family is for. If you ever feel like causing a bloodbath in Las Vegas, ask me. I know the best spots.”
“You’d probably try to kill me in your manic bloodlust, so no thanks.”
I couldn’t promise it wouldn’t happen, so I didn’t say anything.
Fabiano pushed me toward a black limousine and shoved me onto the passenger seat. He got in behind the steering wheel and didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes before it burst out of him. “What the fuck is wrong with you? We all thought you’d grow out of this shit.”
I chuckled. “How do you grow out of being a killer?”
Fabiano slanted me a look. “If you’re always giving in like this, it’ll control you. As a Capo and a man with a loving family, you need to be in control of it.”
“That’s why I’ll never have my own family, because I don’t want to control it.”
“Don’t want to or can’t?”
I looked out of the window. Fuck if I knew.
“If you can’t, then you should stick to your words and stay a lone wolf.”
The next morning at breakfast, Nevio looked as if he’d had a rough night. I didn’t know details of what had transpired, only that Dad had to leave some time in the middle of the night to pick up Nevio, and he’d been in a foul mood when he’d returned.
Nevio’s dark expression probably wasn’t the result of a rough night, though. The upcoming bloody sheets show definitely had something to do with it too.
The Famiglia had established their tradition of showing the bloody sheets after a wedding night again recently, mainly to appease their conservative members. I had never witnessed a bloody sheet presentation before. Mom had always ensured we were somewhere else if one had transpired after a wedding we had attended, but in the Camorra, it rarely happened.