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)
If he comes to save me, he’ll kill people. He might even kill Mr. Parisi, and I wouldn’t hold that against him because it would mean I don’t have to marry an old man and spend the rest of my life being raped and abused.
Sometimes people deserve to die – just like my grandfather and uncle. They had to pay for their sins.
It doesn’t mean I don’t love them anymore, it just means I understand why things had to happen the way they did.
And now I have to pay for the sins of my family too.
Chapter 25
Viktor
“If the fucking gun falls apart again, I’m killing the fucker,” I threaten as Luca and I walk into the warehouse.
Juan-Paul scurries around like a mouse as he tries to prepare everything for the presentation.
“You better not waste my time again,” I warn him, the promise of death ingrained in my words.
Please waste my fucking time, so I can kill you.
“Everything is ready, Mr. Vetrov,” he says, but he doesn’t sound too sure of himself.
I pull my Heckler & Koch from behind my back and train the barrel on him. “Shoot the fucking gun and pray it works.”
With sweat already pouring down his temples, he nods and picks up the modified Glock. With a nervous expression, he aims at a target, and when he pulls the trigger, nothing happens.
A ruthless smile starts to tug at the corner of my mouth as Juan-Paul stutters, “W-wait. L-let me t-try again.”
Stupid fucker.
Knowing what might happen, Luca and I take a couple of steps back.
When Juan-Paul pulls the trigger again, the second round slams into the previous incomplete discharge, and the weapon explodes in the fucker’s hand, spraying him with shrapnel and some of the remaining bullets.
Fortunately, none of the bullets instantly kills the idiot. He drops to the floor, and it takes a moment before he becomes vocal from the pain caused by his injuries.
Slowly, I walk closer and press the barrel of my gun to his temple. Locking eyes with him, I mutter, “Let me show you how a real gun works.”
“N-no!”
I pull the trigger and watch as the light in his eyes is instantly snuffed out.
“Feeling better?” Luca asks.
I shrug. “A little.” Then I grin at my friend. “It was fun watching the weapon explode in his hand, though. I’ll take today as a win.”
Not bothering with Juan-Paul’s men, Luca and I walk out of the warehouse. I climb into the passenger seat of our SUV while Luca slides behind the steering wheel.
Taking out my phone, I check whether Rosalie has replied to any of my messages, but there’s nothing. Only the texts I sent her.
Why won’t you give me your address?
Is it because you don’t trust me?
Are you ignoring me now, moya Malen'kaya Roza?
I stepped in your dog’s shit.
I’m getting worried.
If you don’t reply, I’m flying out to New York.
Don’t test me, moya Malen'kaya Roza.
“Has Rosalie replied?” Luca asks as he drives us to the airfield where our private jet is waiting.
“No.” I haven’t heard from her in three days and to say I’m worried is the understatement of the fucking century.
I check her tracker and see that she’s still at Giovanni Parisi’s house. I know his daughter is the same age as Rosalie, so I assume she’s reconnected with an old friend.
It was Alissa Parisi's birthday yesterday. That’s why Rosalie wore the cocktail dress.
The moment we step aboard the private jet, I pull my laptop out and start to type. I bring up all the CCTV and security cameras near Parisi's house, but everything looks quiet.
Luca leans closer and checks the screen, then asks, “Who’s place is that?”
“Giovanni Parisi.”
His eyebrows dart up. “Why the fuck are you looking into the Cosa Nostra?”
“Rosalie is there.”
My friend gives me a worried look. “Please don’t start a war with the Cosa Nostra. It took me years to establish the peace treaty.”
I let out a chuckle. “Don’t worry. I think Rosalie is visiting Alissa. They’re the same age. With the families having ties, I’m sure the girls were friends.”
A call comes through on Luca’s phone. “It’s my dad.”
“Hey, Papá,” he answers. “I’m good, and you?” He listens, then lets out a chuckle. “I’m watching Viktor sulk.”
I glare at my friend.
He chuckles again, then explains, “He let Rosalie go, and she went to New York. I’m stuck babysitting him, so he doesn’t do anything stupid.” Suddenly Luca sits up straight, worry furrowing his brow. “Hold on. I’m putting you on speaker so Viktor can hear.”
“Hello, Viktor,” Uncle Lucian’s voice comes over the line.
“Hey, Uncle Lucian. What’s up?”
“If Rosalie is in New York, she might run into trouble.”
“Why?”
“It happened before you and Luca took over your respective positions. You must’ve been… seventeen?”
Growing impatient, I ask, “What happened?”
“The Cosa Nostra disapproved of the Mannos dealing in sex trafficking. That’s why they moved to Chicago before Liam drove them out and they settled in Canada.”