Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 28268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28268 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 141(@200wpm)___ 113(@250wpm)___ 94(@300wpm)
“Mrs. Conti. I swear,” he insists.
My sister steps out of the darkness, and Rio grows pale. “Amore, you sent him up with a phone for Patricia?” It never made sense why people tell stupidly obvious lies.
“No. Why the fuck would I do that?” My sister isn’t the kind of woman to play with, so this should be interesting.
“She’s lying.” Wow, this man has got to be a fool, or her reputation has never reached his ears.
“Are you calling my wife a liar?” Matteo gets in the piece of shit’s face, causing him to defecate on himself.
“No. Um…maybe she’s mistaken.”
“Amore. Are you mistaken?” he questions Vivian.
“Nope. I left all my disposable phones in my other bags. Oh, wait, I don’t go out shopping, but you wouldn’t know that, douchebag, since I’ve only just married Matteo and haven’t been out of the house since.”
“You fucked up,” my brother-in-law chuckles. The grin on his face is only as deep as the frown on mine. He wanted my wife to contact her family.
“See, you didn’t do your research, and we have. The phone has been scanned for the last calls. Even though the call logs were cleared, the cellular history wasn’t. The test call was to Detective Sanchez.” His face turns a shade of white I didn’t think was possible for his darker Italian complexion. It’s fucking sickly, almost grayish tan. He should see a doctor. I break out in laughter.
“You all right, Gio?”
I press my hand to my chest. “Yeah, he looks like he’s going to be sick. Like somehow he’s more afraid of that pussy Sanchez than us.”
“That is pretty hilarious.” Vivian takes a blade to his face before we can say anything.
“What the hell?” I shout.
“Hey, he called me a liar. Don’t worry. I didn’t kill him. I saved that for you.”
Our little bitch captive whimpers in pain, and I do my best to not slaughter him without learning more. “I want more information. You got into our home. How did you know she’d call?”
“She had some people she would miss. The chef is her closest person at the estate. They told me she’d want to call him.” Him? I do my best to hold in the blatant jealousy that my wife, in her time of anger and hatred, called another man. Does she love this man intimately? Is this the reason she didn’t want to be married to either the Russian or myself?
My fists clench as my ire intensifies. Then I hear Rio utter his final words. “Oh, is the geek jealous?”
I grab my sister’s blade, slice his throat, and walk out of the room without a second thought. There is no need for more answers. He didn’t deserve another breath.
It’s time to fucking get answers from my wife. I know Matteo spoke with her before, but I want more than basic questions. These answers are personal.
“Tell me about the chef. Are you in love with him?”
“In love with him?”
“You heard me. Don’t fucking repeat the damn question, Patricia.”
“No.”
“But you know who I’m talking about.”
“Well, duh, since you asses took the phone Vivian gave me and the only person I called was him.”
“Yes, calling another man.”
“You sound ridiculous.”
“Do I?”
“Yes. Now, you should probably shower. Looks like you’ve been working.”
“That’s the blood from the fucker who gave you the phone. Next is the chef.”
“Don’t hurt him.”
“Why? Wish you married him instead?”
“Are you serious? He is old enough to be my dad.”
“Why didn’t you say that before?”
“Because you were being ridiculous and besides, I thought you big jackass mob guys did your research first.”
“I have to shower.”
I feel like an asshole and a big pussy, so I hit the shower without another word to her. She shakes her head and then continues getting ready.
Once the evidence is cleaned off my body and the shame tamped down, I step out into our bedroom and get dressed. She’s already there waiting on the chair with her book in hand. I’m not sure what it’s about, but Vivian let her borrow it.
“What the fuck are you reading?”
“None of your business. Look, I should have taken the help I got when I first escaped.”
“How did you escape, anyway?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Yes, I do.”
“My future husband’s men helped me.” I’m on her in a heartbeat. I pin her to the bed, cupping her pussy.
“What the fuck did you say?” I grunt against her throat.
“I meant that he was supposed to be my husband,” she stammers, fighting off a moan.
“No, the fuck he wasn’t. He’s nothing to you. I’m your husband. End of fucking story.”
“Prove it. You hate my father so much that you hate me. I don’t know why you bothered marrying me. I could be—” I cut off her words with my mouth.
Our kiss is brutal and rough. I slam my tongue inside, clashing with hers. “You want to fuck around and use that mouth like a bad girl? I’m going to punish you for talking about belonging to another man.”