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)
Carlotta’s gaze moved back to Massimo, and her cheeks turned pink.
I sighed. “Go back to your monster.”
“He’s not…”
I wasn’t sure what she wanted to deny. That he was a monster. Or that he was hers. Neither would have been convincing, so it was good she’d stopped herself.
“I should stay with you. Or better yet, we should go home and watch a movie instead of staying here. I’m sure Massimo would take us home if I asked him.”
I remembered how Nevio had ordered the same thing, and my body bristled against the notion. “No,” I said firmly. “Go to Massimo, and I’ll talk to Alessio. I saw him in the kitchen.”
Carlotta gripped my hand. “You come with me. Massimo likes you. He’ll be happy to talk to us both.”
“I don’t want to be the fifth wheel,” I muttered. I had too much practice with the role. Most of our lives Carlotta and I had been kind of fifth wheels when we hung around the Falcone mansion. Nevio, Massimo and Alessio had always had an inseparable bond, and even Greta had somehow been part of it.
“You won’t,” she said firmly.
“Aurora,” Massimo greeted me neutrally as I stopped at the sofa.
I gave him an apologetic smile, but his brows snapped together as if he didn’t understand why, so I took a gulp from my drink instead. I allowed my gaze to flit around the massive living room. I wasn’t even sure whom it belonged to. Many faces were familiar, such as the sons and daughters of Camorrista or people I knew from school. Most were older, college-age like Alessio, Nevio, and Massimo.
It still felt strange to consider that I would be in college this fall. If Nevada State accepted me for their nursing program, which was very likely considering who my father was. A part of me wasn’t sure it was the right move. I would take the place of someone who needed a degree to work. I could work as a nurse or doctor if I let the Camorra doctors and nurses teach me what they knew. I’d never be allowed to work in a non-mob hospital anyway.
“Why aren’t you in college? You’re a genius,” I said to Massimo when I realized I’d stood there like a salt pillar for too long.
Massimo tilted his head and gave a shrug. “I can’t see that it’d make a difference. What I want to learn can be found in online resources.”
I supposed he had a point. A degree wouldn’t make sense for him either.
“Why nursing school?” Massimo asked.
I jumped. “I like taking care of people. I want to help them heal.”
“You could have become a doctor.”
I’d considered it, but I wanted to be even closer to the patients. For now, the nursing program seemed like the perfect way to pursue my interests.
Carlotta smiled gently. “I still remember the kind nurses who took care of me when I was in the hospital during the long recovery after my heart surgery. They made the hard times bearable. I don’t really remember the names of the doctors.”
“The Camorra always needs people who know how to treat wounds, so it’s a useful degree,” Massimo said.
I nodded. I would prefer to work in the NICU for premature babies later, but I knew that might not be in the cards.
Carlotta said something else, but my attention was on Nevio, who came out of the kitchen with a bottle of tequila. Alessio was right behind him, shaking his head with a look of exasperation.
Massimo rose to his feet, eyes narrowed when Nevio stopped in the center of the room. A group of college-age guys, all of them shit-faced, built a half circle around Nevio.
Nevio pointed with the bottle at one of the guys, the tallest and, from the dynamic of the group, their leader. It was also the guy who’d talked to me in the lobby. “This gentleman likes bets,” Nevio shouted.
Massimo released a sigh.
“He thinks I’m full of it and wouldn’t cut open my own wrist.” Nevio’s grin became wider, all teeth. “If I win, he’ll shoot fireworks from his ass.”
I froze. “He won’t, right?”
Massimo’s look gave me little hope. Nevio pulled a long knife from a holster at his calf.
The guy’s eyes widened. Was it really coincidence that Nevio and the guy who’d tried to flirt with me were at it?
Nevio turned to a girl to his right. “Hold my bottle for me.” She took it with a giggle.
A sour taste spread in my mouth.
A hush fell over the crowd when Nevio ran the blade across his wrist.
“Fuck, you’re sick! What kind of sicko are you?” the guy shouted, looking close to panic.
My belly constricted at seeing the blood dripping from Nevio’s cut. I put my drink down on a table and rushed over to him. When I arrived by his side, he just accepted the bottle from the girl who looked ready to be sick on his shoes and took a sip before he dumped half the bottle over his knife and wound.