Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 73365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 367(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“They worship you. There’s no way they’d ever question a single thing you do.” He shrugs. “But it’s in my job description.”
I raise a brow. “Are you saying you don’t worship me?”
He quirks a half-smile. “Get over yourself already. You’ve got Benny and Red kissing your ass so hard you probably have hickies. You don’t need me to join.”
“Always room for one more.” I lean back in my chair and stretch my legs. The hum of the jet usually goes a long way to put me at ease, but not this time. I can’t seem to settle, to stop thinking about her. The way she felt beneath me, the way she kept saying no when we both knew she wanted every hard inch of me.
“There you go again.”
“What?” I shrug.
“You got that look on your face, and I know you’re a million miles away.” He shrugs one shoulder. “Maybe not a million, just a few hundred.”
“I’m here.” I force myself to shelve thoughts of Lucretia, though I know it won’t work for long. “What’s the plan on Red?”
“I’ve already pulled a few strings so we can talk to the agent in charge as soon as we land. She’s known for being reasonable.”
“Ah, I see. ‘Reasonable’ as in she’s got kids to send to college and a public servant’s pay doesn’t cut it?”
He nods.
I steeple my fingers. “How much is this going to cost me?”
“Depends on how she wants to play this. But I’m thinking that 50k is long gone, and we’re going to have to drop more on top of it.”
“And still no coke?”
“And still no coke,” he confirms.
“Fuck.”
“As far as I know, it’s still stalled off the coast. The feds don’t have it in hand.”
“That’s good news at least.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“You haven’t gotten much sleep in the past week.” His eyes narrow on my face. “One would think it’s because you’re in the honeymoon stage, but that’s not the vibe I’m getting.”
“Are you asking me if I’m fucking my wife?”
“I’m not not asking it. Look, when you hatched this plan, we all knew that marrying Lucretia was just setting the game board to your advantage. But it’s more than that. Maybe Red and Benny don’t realize it, but I do. Like I said, I saw her file. And I know you. Better than anyone. Even Lito.”
I raise a brow. “Lito would take issue with that.”
“Lito takes issue with everything I do because it involves rules.” He gives a rueful smile. “Can you imagine what it would be like if he was running things?”
I make the sign of the cross. “Heaven help us all.”
He laughs. “Exactly. Anyway, all I’m trying to say is that if you want to make a real run at this whole marriage thing—”
“I don’t.” I can’t tell if I’m telling the truth.
He leans forward. “I know who she is, Mateo. I know what her parents did. But I also know how you look at her, how you gravitate toward her, how you practically fucking stalked her before you ever met her. If you wanted to explore that, I’m just saying that might not be a bad thing.”
“You know I can’t.”
“You’re the head of the Milani family.” His wry smile is back. “You can do whatever the fuck you want.”
I can’t argue with that. But my point still stands. I’m bound to Lucretia, but I’m also bound by honor to exact vengeance on her parents. She’s collateral damage, a means to an end. Even if I want to bridge the divide between us, it’s not something I’m able to do, not after what her family did to mine. It’s a prison made by our shared history, though she doesn’t feel the bars as keenly as I do. She doesn’t know the extent of what her family has done. Maybe I should tell her. Maybe I should show her exactly why I hate her. But is hate the right word? Did I feel hatred when I was on top of her, when I was sucking on her perfect tits and rubbing my cock against her wet cunt? No, I felt desire, so much of it that I was out of fucking control. And underneath that primal need, there was another emotion, one that only whispers in the deepest parts of my heart. One that should never be used to describe how I feel for anyone with the last name Fontana.
I need to hate her. It’s what my family’s honor demands. And the fact that I don’t … the fact that I feel so much more for her. Fuck! This isn’t the way it was supposed to go.
I stare at my hands, at the bruised knuckles and the goddamn wedding band. I should’ve used them to bend her to my will, to take everything from her and leave her a hollowed-out shell. But I haven’t, and I didn’t. And the one time I came close—it wasn’t about hurting her. It should’ve been, but it wasn’t. When I was on top of her, it was a give and take, a dance of denial and longing, one that would’ve ended with both of us wrapped in each other and drowning in pleasure. This morning wasn’t about punishing her for the sins of her father. It was only about the two of us, the way we keep pulling toward each other like magnets. Cursed by forces outside of our control, forces so fucking primal that I can’t tell how deep they go, can’t even get an idea of how to root them out. It’s as if this need for her is written into my DNA, carved into my skull with caveman’s blade.