Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Surprise,” she says with the cute smile I remember. “Mrs. Caruso told me you’re back and renting the apartment above her restaurant, so I rushed right over.”
“It’s been so long,” I cry as I dart forward to hug the girl who was the only friend I ever had. “God, I missed you.”
Her arms wrap around me. “I missed you too.”
We hold each other for a long moment before I let go and invite her inside.
“Tell me everything I’ve missed,” she says as she sits down on the couch.
“There’s a lot to tell,” I chuckle. “Would you like some coffee?”
“Please.” She glances around the tiny apartment, then tilts her head. “I have to ask why you’re living here?”
“It’s affordable.”
A frown furrows her brow. “But your family is wealthy.” She gives me a comforting smile.
Alissa’s father is one of the heads of the Cosa Nostra, so she knows what kind of lifestyle I’m used to as we come from the same world.
As I stir the warm liquid, I shake my head. “Not anymore.”
I hand a cup to Alissa and sit down next to her.
“What do you mean, not anymore?”
I inhale deeply and lift my eyes to the girl I used to share all my secrets with. No, she’s no longer a girl. Alissa’s grown into a beautiful woman. Her hair is no longer reaching down her back but cut into a super cute pixie style.
The scar on her chin has faded. She got it when she fell out of the treehouse.
She’s changed in so many ways but also still looks the same.
Thinking her dad would’ve told her about what happened to my family, I ask, “You heard about the attack on us in Canada? Right?”
Again she frowns, her eyes widening. “No. What attack?”
“Your dad didn’t tell you? I’m sure he would’ve heard.”
“Daddy never tells me anything. What happened?”
The need to talk to someone about everything I’ve been through overwhelms me for a moment. That’s when I realize I’ve never spoken about it. I’ve been bottling everything deep inside.
The moment passes, though, because I’m not ready to talk about my trauma. Also, I haven’t seen Alissa in years, and offloading the mountain of grief and heartache on her so soon after seeing her again would be wrong.
I shrug and shake my head. “I’ll tell you another day.” I take a sip of my coffee, then change the subject by asking, “What have you been up to? Did you study after school?”
Alissa lets out a burst of laughter. “Oh, hell no. I’ve been living the high life as a socialite. All the events and parties keep me busy.” She drinks some of her beverage. “You still make the best coffee.”
Three years ago, I thought I would be a socialite and travel the world.
Wow, so much has changed.
Alissa sets her cup down on the worn coffee table, then says, “I can’t stay long. I just wanted to say hello.”
A smile curves my lips. “Thanks for coming over.” Getting up, I add, “It was really nice seeing you again.”
She glances around my studio apartment, then says, “I don’t know what happened that you have to live like this, but you’re welcome to stay with me.” She scrunches her nose. “No offense, but my closet is bigger.”
I let out a self-conscious chuckle. “None taken.” Shrugging, I try to explain as best I can. “I know it’s not much, but I’d rather stay here.”
Alissa gives me an endearing smile. “Well, the offer stands if you change your mind.” She starts to walk to the front door, then pauses. “I’m having an intimate party for my twenty-first on Saturday. Please come.”
“I will.” I grin, thinking it will be nice to see Alissa’s parents again and to spend more time with her.
We hug before I let her out, then I glance at the tiny space.
It’s not much, but it’s home. For now.
Chapter 20
Viktor
The past week my body’s been running on rage and alcohol.
I knew it would be hard letting Rosalie go, but I didn’t think it would be debilitating.
I tried to drown the heartache with vodka, and if it weren’t for the fucking meeting in Peru, I’d still be drunk as fuck.
But here I am with Luca, staring at Juan-Paul while he fumbles with a modified Glock.
Modified my ass.
Juan-Paul grins then hands the weapon to me. “It carries a bigger caliber bullet, but it’s lighter.”
Right.
I only spare the piece of shit gun a glance, then aim at the target. Before I can pull the trigger, the clip falls out and lands with a clatter by my feet.
A dangerous chuckle escapes me as I turn to Juan-Paul, who looks like he’s about to shit himself. Sweat pours down his temples.
He shouts at one of his men, slapping him upside the head, then gives me an apologetic look. “It needs some work.”
I nod as I set the weapon down on the display case.