Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
I dip my spoon into the creamy velouté and lift it to my mouth, tasting nothing as I swallow.
“We have to attend a wedding,” Saverio says.
I look up. The strain on his face gives me pause.
“It’s a family wedding,” he continues. “Luigi and Giorgio will be there.”
I tense. “Do I have to go?”
“It’ll send the wrong message if you don’t.”
“That you’re not serious about me.”
“Exactly.”
I put down my spoon. “Don’t you think people have gotten the idea by now?”
He observes me with a dark expression. “The man we saw outside your office today is a detective.”
A lump lodges in my throat. “Is he working on the murder investigation?”
“Yes.” He sits back. “He’s asking questions about us. There will be a photographer at the wedding. The photos will no doubt end up on social media.”
“Fine.” I swallow. “I get it. Who’s getting married?”
“Luigi’s niece, Elena.”
“The Elena I met at the club?”
“The one and only,” he says in a dry tone.
Great. She made it obvious how much she liked me.
“It’s going to be the wedding of the year,” he says. “We’ll have to go dress shopping this weekend.”
“There must be fifty dresses with designer labels in your closet.”
“Those aren’t the dresses I’m talking about. You’ll need something a little fancier. I was thinking red. The color suits you.”
Is he going to suggest the style too? “Any other requirements?” I ask with sarcasm.
“Leave your hair down,” he says without missing a beat. “And no panties.”
I gape at him. “Why would I do that?”
He pins me with a heated look. “Because I’m going to fuck you in that dress before I take you to the wedding.”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
Saverio
Ifuck Anya at night and in the morning. I’m inside her at every chance I get.
It’s never enough.
It’s a good thing she works, or she’d never leave my bed.
That’s where I prefer to spend all her free time, but things changed. I need to be more careful than ever. The trust between Luigi and me is broken. He’s the boss, but he went behind my back. He ordered the unthinkable, and I have to come up with a solution of keeping Anya safe.
My only option is killing Luigi, and that will cause a war. My men are loyal. They’ll stand by me. However, Luigi’s men will demand retribution. Giorgio won’t throw me under the bus. He needs me too much. There’s no love lost between him and his father. Giorgio isn’t the most emotionally intelligent man who walks the earth, but he knows how much his father despises him. Luigi never made a secret of it. Giorgio will jump at the chance of taking over the reins. It won’t be a smooth handover though. The men will be divided. Some may follow him. Others will split away and rebel. The war will be bloody.
I have no doubt I’ll win. The determining factor that can tip the scale is Raphael. Now that he’s marrying into the family, he’s part of Luigi’s business. If he drags his father, Michele Morelli, into the fight, it will be their men against mine and Giorgio’s. We’ll be vastly outnumbered, and I don’t believe in fighting stupidly. I need to come up with another idea, something that’ll keep Luigi at bay.
In the meantime, it doesn’t hurt to teach Anya a few new survival skills. She lives in my world now, and I will protect her if it’s the last thing I do, but she needs to know how to defend herself.
That’s why, on Saturday, after shopping for a wedding outfit at an exclusive boutique, I take her to the shooting range.
She looks around when we enter, confusion etched on her face. “What are we doing here?”
A few men who are shooting targets give us curious glances, but one warning look from me and they avert their eyes.
I take her hand and lead her to an empty booth. A target stands against the wall. I take my piece from the back of my waistband, eject the magazine, and check that the chamber is empty.
She stares at me with big eyes when I hold out the gun.
“Come on, treasure. It’s not going to bite.”
Mistrust sparks in her whisky-colored eyes. “Why are you doing this?”
I shrug, trying to make light of it. “If I have guns in my house, it’s best you learn to be confident in handling them.”
She studies the Glock on my palm with a tilted head. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll shoot you?”
That makes me chuckle. “Very.”
She looks at me. “Then why take the risk?”
“Because you’re not going to shoot the only man who can protect you.”
Something passes through her eyes, but before I can get an accurate read on her, she grabs the gun from my hand and the magazine from the counter. She clips the magazine in place with surprising speed, pulls back the slide, flicks off the safety, aims, and fires.