Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46487 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 232(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
“Wait, what?” I say, my voice coming out far louder and sharper than I mean it to. “I can’t do that, Alexis. I have to take care of my sister’s dog today.”
“You have to …”
She trails off, making a dismissive snorting sound.
“Look, that’s very cute and everything, but this is really important. This is a high-profile client who wants us to sell all those homes. Everything’s set up. It’s just one home today. All you have to do is stand there and be friendly and answer any questions. If things get out of hand, direct them to the buffet table. Easy.”
“Wait, are these the new-build properties?”
“Yes,” she sighs impatiently.
I’ve never even been there before. They’ve always been Tina’s domain.
I want to snap at her that this isn’t fair.
This is my first day off in two weeks and now she’s calling me up, expecting extra work.
But the thing is, I’m paying the majority of the rent these days. I basically forced Jackie to cut down on her hours at her office gig so that she could focus on her art more. She was reluctant. She’s always been the breadwinner.
I wanted to prove myself.
If I say no, I could be out of a job. I’m still on my probationary period. They can fire me any time they like.
On top of everything else, Alexis is the boss’s daughter.
“Is that a yes, Kimberly?” Alexis snaps. “I’ve got some, like, really important stuff I need to be doing right now. So I’d appreciate an answer.”
“Yes,” I say between gritted teeth.
I’ll just have to make it work.
“Did you say you were sending a car?”
“Yes, well—the client is sending a car. He should be with you any moment.”
Right on cue, the apartment buzzer screeches through the apartment, sending Tinkerbell into another round of caterwauling.
“Right on time,” I mutter drily.
“Great. I know you’ll do a fantastic job. Ciao for now.”
I absolutely despise when she says ciao for now. It’s her regular sign off. I fight the urge to throw the phone across the room.
Instead, I walk across the apartment and press the intercom button.
“Hello?” I say.
“Hey, miss,” a man’s gravelly voice says. His accent is tinged Italian, but not in an over the top way. “I’m your ride for the morning. Name’s Vinnie.”
“Hello, Vinnie,” I say. “Would you mind giving me a few minutes? I need to get ready.”
“Aye, not a problem,” he says. “I’m just across the street. I’ll give you a honk when I see ya leave.”
“Okay,” I say.
I turn back into the apartment and walk into the kitchen. Tinkerbell stops her perpetual attack on the refrigerator when she sees me standing over her. The door shows scuff marks from where she’s attacked it many times before. No matter how often she tries to get in there – no matter how many times she fails – she keeps trying.
I have to admire her perseverance.
“Tinkerbell,” I sigh. “Just what the heck am I going to do with you?”
Chapter Two
Kristian
“What the fuck did you do, Maury?” I snarl, standing over my old friend.
We’re in the underground office at Mystique, one of the hottest bars in town. Through the ceiling, I can hear honking horns and the roar of traffic, the city alive at this time of the morning.
Maury is the man who made a bid for the Cameno Family along with me, back when we were both fresh-faced young kids in the Family. The problem is that my old man was the last Don, and by right, the leadership position should’ve been mine.
But I wasn’t going to be seen as weak. So we fought. And I won.
He’s been loyal ever since, but lately, he’s been making stupid mistakes.
A year older than me at forty-three, he’s gained little wisdom over the years. He’s wide and round and his eyes are big drug-addict discs. His lips are perpetually watery, as though he’s always drunk. He reeks of whiskey. His suit is crumpled and his head is shiny, visible beneath the sparse strands of his comb-over.
“I didn’t do anything,” he whines.
I bite down, fighting the urge to backhand him across the face.
I have to be careful with lashing out. I’m almost seven feet tall and I spend at least two hours a day in the gym, every morning, working my body like a possessed man.
I could snap his neck with one incautious movement.
“Lie to me again,” I growl. “Do it, Maury. Lie to me.”
He cringes back in the chair, wrapping his arms across his middle. His eyes flit around the office, to the wide oak desk and the photos on the walls—photos of me and my Mom, mostly, and then a few of me my Mom, and Dad from when I was a kid.
Family matters more than anything.
That’s something Maury seems to have forgotten.
“You’ve been taking shipments of hard drugs without my permission,” I snap, leaning forward, towering over him.