Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 77824 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77824 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
We just stare at each other for a tense minute.
I feel her breaths explode over my face, her body pressed to mine as I keep her imprisoned against the counter, her chest desperately rising and falling.
When I realize my heart is hammering against my ribs, I yank away from her and stalk out of the kitchen. Reaching the elevator, I slam the button, and the moment the doors slide open, I step inside.
With my hands fisted at my sides, I take the elevator down, and when I step out, Vincenzo and Fabrizio’s heads turn in my direction from where they’re sitting in the Bentley.
“Going out?” Vincenzo asks when I climb into the back of the car.
“Yes. Take me to Franco,” I mutter. “Fabrizio, stay here and keep an eye on the woman.”
As he shoves the door open, he says, “Yes, boss.”
Vincenzo starts the engine and steers us out of the basement and onto the street.
I know my friend has his hands full with the triplets, but I need to see him.
Resting my elbow against the door, I rub my fingers over my mouth, the scene in the kitchen replaying in my mind.
I don’t know why I lost my shit. It’s unlike me. Usually I’m the calm one out of the five heads of the Cosa Nostra.
I’m the chilled and funny friend between Franco and me.
But with Skylar in my personal space, I’m finding it hard to control my rage. One look at the woman has me on the constant brink of losing my shit.
It’s because you’re faced around the clock with the woman who has Giulio’s kidney in her body.
Maybe I should just kill Skylar and Harlan and be done with it.
When Vincenzo pulls into the driveway at the back of the house, I see Marcello and Milo, Franco’s right-hand men, having a cigarette on the patio.
I throw the door open as Marcello kills the cigarette in an ashtray. His eyes lock on me, “This is a surprise.”
I can’t exchange pleasantries right now. “Where’s Franco?”
Marcello gestures to the sliding doors. “Probably in the kitchen or nursery.”
I walk into the house and check the kitchen, where I find Franco downing a cup of coffee.
His eyebrows fly up when he sees me, then his features tighten. “What’s wrong?”
“I just needed a break from my place,” I reply as I lean back against the island, crossing my arms over my chest.
“The woman?” he asks.
I just nod.
We’re quiet for a moment, then he asks, “Want to talk about it?”
I let out a sigh before muttering, “I’m thinking maybe I should just kill them and be done with it.”
“If that’s what you want to do,” Franco says, his eyes locked on my face.
“Dario will be pissed off,” I mention.
“Why?”
“He feels the woman is innocent in all of this,” I explain.
“But you don’t feel the same,” Franco states the obvious.
He sets the coffee cup down, and walking out of the kitchen, he calls out, “Follow me.”
Letting out another sigh, I follow my friend to the third floor and into a nursery that’s decorated with baby animals.
The light is dimmed. Two of the triplets are fast asleep, while the third is making baby sounds. From the blue onesie the baby has on, I know it’s Augusto, Franco’s son.
Franco reaches down and picks up Augusto, then comes closer to me. There’s a proud smile on his face as he stares down at his heir, then his eyes flick to mine.
“Hold him,” he whispers.
I shake my head and take a step back.
Franco gives me a look of warning. “Hold my fucking son, Renzo.”
Reluctantly and very fucking awkwardly, I take the baby, instantly anxious I’ll drop him.
Augusto makes a cute gurgling sound, and it looks like he’s smiling at me.
Weirdly enough, I begin to feel calmer. When I aim to touch his chubby cheek, he grabs hold of my finger. Seeing his tiny hand holding mine, my fucking heart melts.
“You’re their godfather. You should bond with them,” Franco says.
“I know. They just terrify the fuck out of me,” I admit with a soft chuckle.
“You just needed a little oxytocin to make you feel better,” Franco murmurs.
I glance at my friend. “Oxytocin?”
“Love hormones. They release when you hold babies or puppies. Why do you think I’m so much calmer? I’m constantly high on the shit.”
I let out another chuckle and have to admit, I feel better.
When Augusto starts fussing, I hand him back to Franco, who makes it look like it’s the most natural thing for him to hold a baby.
“Being a father looks good on you,” I say.
“I totally agree,” Samantha suddenly says behind me.
Glancing over my shoulder, I smile at the woman who brought my best friend to his knees. “Hey.”
When she comes into the room, I move out of the way. Samantha might have gotten used to me, but I still keep my distance from her so she won’t feel uncomfortable.