Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 152853 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 764(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 510(@300wpm)
I could’ve told her if she’d bothered asking. There’s no such thing as an end to us. I wouldn’t have come back if there was.
He looks at me and gestures at her. “Can you talk some sense into her? Because she’s not listening to me.”
“He will be wasting his breath,” Tatum mutters. “My mind is made up.”
“Exactly what do you have in mind?”
She juts out her chin, clearly irritated that she must explain herself to me. “All I did was come in here and very reasonably tell my father I want to get a place of my own. That’s it. I want to live under my own roof, by my own rules. I’m going on twenty-three years old. I think it’s time for me to start living independently.”
Callum slams his fists on the desk hard enough to knock over a framed photo. It’s of him and Bianca on their wedding day. The smiling man in the picture is the polar opposite of the man in front of me. “But you aren’t any regular twenty-three-year-old. You are —”
“I know exactly who I am,” she snaps. “I’m Callum Torrio‘s daughter. I am aware. But I want to be Tatum Torrio. Don’t you see that? What, did you think I went to college and everything just so I could live here for the rest of my life? The idea was for me to start something on my own. And yeah, I got detoured.” Her voice shakes on the last word, but she holds it together. “I want to get back on course.”
She glances my way, and the wall between us drops. This isn’t the bratty daughter of my boss looking at me. This is the woman I slept with last night. The woman I pushed away because I was sure it would be better for her, having nothing to do with me. This is the woman I care way too much about. She needs my help.
I hope I don’t regret this. “I can see the point.”
“What?” Callum’s furious glare turns my way, and I wish I hadn’t spoken, but it’s too late now.
“I can see her point. She wants to get on with her life. She’s a capable person. I don’t see any reason why she can’t move out on her own.” Every word is torture, making me go against my instincts. She’s mine, dammit. She belongs with me. Here, where she’s loved. Where she’s safe.
“I cannot believe this. First you —” He points a finger in her direction, “– and now you. Forming an alliance against me.”
“Dad, you know that’s not true. Come on.”
Her tone softens, the anger draining out of it. I can only imagine it’s because she doesn’t feel alone in the fight anymore. She walks around the desk and meets him by his chair. “I’m not doing this to go against you. I’m doing it for me. You know? There’s a big difference.”
“We just got you back.”
“I don’t have to go far. I have a few areas in mind and they’re all within, like, fifteen or twenty minutes. I’ll be a lot closer than I was at Romero’s old house.”
“I want it on record that I am thoroughly against this. I think it’s a huge mistake.”
“Yeah. I sort of got that idea.” Usually, he can’t help but chuckle when she teases him like that. Not now. He’s too busy being furious.
“Fine. But you’re going to do something for me. Otherwise, don’t think I’m beyond locking you in that wing and putting twenty-four-hour surveillance on you.”
“I would expect that.” A ghost of a smile plays over her glossy lips, and I can’t help but remember what they tasted like last night. How they felt wrapped around my dick. “What did you have in mind?”
And that’s when he does it. That’s when he glances my way.
Son of a bitch. Why didn’t I see this coming?
“You’re going to have a bodyguard. Full-time.”
Her face goes slack while a full-blown battle rages in my head. The weak, pathetic side of me – the side she unlocked, damn her – is practically throwing a party. Another excuse to be with her. Together, alone. Maybe this time, we can make it work somehow. Am I wrong for wanting that?
The side of me still capable of thinking rationally wants to come up with any reason to stop this. I’m no good for her. There’s too much blood on my hands to ever wash off. I’ve already stained her enough. It has to stop.
“I thought you said you needed me here.” It’s taking everything I have to keep calm. “At the house. Before you left, you said you needed me here, which was why you wanted me to return.”
“That was before I knew this one decided to run off.”
And she couldn’t have come up with her idea this morning. I wouldn’t put it past her to act without thinking, but this is the kind of thing that took forethought. She already has places in mind, right? She’s been thinking about this. Planning.