Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 84756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Erotic?
Feeling hesitant, I start with chapter one but soon get lost in the story.
When I reach chapter two, laughter bursts from me. “Uhm, so there are curse words in this book. Do I read them?”
Mrs. Accardi chuckles before answering, “You read every word, cara. Don’t leave out anything, or it will take away from the story.”
My tongue darts out to wet my lips, and as I continue reading, my eyes grow wide as saucers. “Staring at Josephine’s curvacious … ahhh,” I glance at Mrs. Falco and Mrs. Accardi, who are both waiting with bated breath, “curvacious ass, I can already tell she’ll be a good … Dio.”
My eyes jump over the page, and with every filthy word, they grow wider. “Oh wow,” I whisper, then I read the part where the hero fantasizes about plunging into her wet core. “Holy crap.”
Mrs. Falco lets out a burst of laughter, then says, “Put the poor girl out of her misery, Greta. Choose something tamer for her to begin with.”
Mrs. Accardi chuckles as she retrieves another book from the shelf. “This one only has a three-chili pepper rating.”
“What’s a chili pepper rating?” I ask as I take the book from her.
“There are no more than four or five spicy scenes, and they aren’t too hot.”
Caro Dio.
I begin to read, and when I reach chapter three, and there is only a curse word here and there, I relax. The plot gets better and better, and I keep reading.
When I reach a scene where the main female character is betrayed by her best friend, I mutter, “What an awful friend.”
“I think we should have some tea. You must be thirsty from all the reading,” Mrs. Falco says.
“I’ll prepare the tea,” I offer as I set the book down on a side table.
When I get up from the armchair, Mrs. Accardi waves a hand in the air.
“We’ll join you in the kitchen. I want to see if there are any of those chocolate cookies left that Martha baked.”
I wait for Mrs. Falco and Mrs. Accardi to walk and follow them to the kitchen.
After I pour water into a kettle, I search through the cupboards until I find the teacups.
“Found them,” Mrs. Accardi exclaims, and when I glance over my shoulder, I see her place a cookie in Mrs. Falco’s hand then she comes to offer me one.
“Thank you,” I murmur before taking a bite.
While I chew, I prepare chamomile tea.
I glance at Mrs. Falco and Mrs. Accardi, then think about the short time I’ve spent here.
So far, my stay has been enjoyable. It’s a million times better than being at home with my family.
I hope I get to visit for a while before Damiano follows through on whatever plan he has for me.
Chapter 9
Damiano
When Carlo brings the SUV to a stop at one of my warehouses, I shove the door open and climb out. Straightening my jacket, my gaze sweeps over the area before I head toward the side door.
The moment my men see me, they straighten up.
Tommy rushes toward me. “We found the fucker trying to deal in Mott Haven. There were five other guys with him, but the fuckers put up a fight, and we had to kill them.”
Nodding, I walk to where the drug dealer is sitting on the floor. My men have restrained him with zip ties and already gave him one hell of a beating.
Stopping a couple of feet from the prisoner, I say, “Dealing in the Bronx and Brooklyn is ambitious. What made you think it would be allowed?”
The man lifts his head, and when his eyes lock on me, they widen with fear.
Immediately, he starts to ramble, “We were just told to sell in those areas. They offered us good money for the work. Please, I have a family. It’s tough out there. I just wanted to make a quick buck.”
When I continue to stare at him, he starts to sob. “Please. I’m just a bottom feeder. A man by the name of Leroy gave me the job. That’s all the info I have, boss.”
Letting out a sigh, my eyes flick to Tommy. “Find Leroy.”
“Yes, boss.”
“So I can go?” the dealer asks, his tone filled with hope.
Not sparing him another glance, I turn around and walk to the side door.
“No! Wait! Wait!” he shouts right before a gunshot rings through the air.
Reaching the SUV, I open the passenger door and pause to say, “I want more men cleaning the streets. If we wipe out the bottom line, it will cut into Miguel’s profits. Hit the fucker where it hurts most.”
“On it,” Carlo mutters.
Climbing into the SUV, anger and frustration simmer in my chest.
I want Miguel’s drugs out of my fucking city.
I pull my phone out and go into the group chat with the other heads of the Cosa Nostra. I start a video call, and when only Angelo, Franco, and Renzo answer, I frown.