 by Jane Henry.jpg)
Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
If only it were that simple.
He's my best friend. Practically my brother-in-law...
And a cold-blooded killer.
I mourned his loss when he vanished from my life six months ago.
But now he's back, and he's no longer the boy I once knew.
There's a darkness in his eyes that chills me to the bone.
When a blizzard holds us prisoner in Bella Notte -- a members only club harboring secrets within its walls -- I have nowhere to run.
Even when I want to...
Infatuation is a wickedly slow burn friends to lovers dark mafia romantic suspense, featuring an anti-hero, elements of violence, and consensual non-consent. Mature audiences only, please.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER ONE
Starla
I open the app for my bank account and blink. Some days, I look at that number and I wonder if there was a glitch. A mistake. Because I, Starla Soul, with no college education or even so much as a sugar daddy to pad my wallet, have managed to accumulate that much cash. After I confirm the numbers, I quickly close the app, because it makes me a little uncomfortable.
It’s one thing having a few hundred bucks. It’s another having thousands. And then, when it gets into the hundreds of thousands, you start seeing…possibilities.
And no one even has the slightest clue.
I hit my monthly goal, though. I set a goal, those numbers showed up in my account, and now I get my reward.
“Good job, Starla,” I whisper to myself as I swipe up on the UGG app and choose the prettiest pair of chestnut brown fur-lined boots. The stark branches of the trees outside the window, devoid of any leaves, sway in the chilly wind, heralding the arrival of a cold winter. A girl has to have protection, after all.
I can still feel the numb chill of my toes clad in hand-me-down shoes that were so big snow would slosh in over the sides and I would trip on the long walk to school.
Yeah, I won’t take those boots for granted.
My phone buzzes, followed by another buzz and another until it feels like I’m about to be attacked by an angry swarm of bees. I look with concern at the screen. Though my phone buzzes all day long, the suddenness of these notifications gets my attention. I frown. I still have those damn interviews.
My heart beats faster, because my inner voice is telling me maybe it would be better to keep my secrets… well, secret. But I have work to do, and if I want to keep those numbers rolling into my bank account, I have to focus and I have to up the ante.
I check my makeup. Re-apply my lip gloss and flick my hair so the waves fall over my shoulders gracefully. I check and double-check that everything’s in place, including a solid Wi-Fi connection. I practice smiling just to lift my spirits. No one will actually see me smile.
There was a time when just the thought of the day ahead, out from under the abusive thumb of my parents and the knowledge that I’d see him again, made everything seem brighter. I’d pop out of bed in the morning, grateful to be alive and free and ready to face whatever came.
Or so I thought.
When you survive what I have, you don’t take little things for granted anymore.
But that was long ago.
No one’s seen or heard from Timeo Montavio in six months.
I swallow the lump in my throat. I can’t think of that now.
My brother-in-law Sergio is convinced he’s dead but doesn’t want to say it. He’s hinted as much, though. “This is the world we live in,” he said just last week. “The chances that he’s made it this far, Starla, this long…”
Sergio’s brother Ricco obviously agrees, but I don’t care what they say.
They haven’t found a body. They don’t have any evidence that Timeo’s not still out there.
I breathe in deeply and close my eyes. I finger the locket around my neck and whisper a prayer that I know may fall on deaf ears, because I have no idea how or when I’ll ever believe in any kind of being like God ever again.
I swallow hard and check the phone again. Almost go time.
I hate having notifications on when I’m working, so I quickly swipe down to “Do Not Disturb.”
It’s been a hot minute since I’ve done an interview. I want to be fully present. Center stage. On.
There’s a knock on my door. I hold my breath. God, I do not want anyone here right now. If it’s my sister Eden or her husband Sergio coming unannounced…
“Starla?”
Shit.
I shut down my laptop with a frantic look at the time. Only five minutes left.
“Yes?” I yell, my voice too high-pitched.
“It’s Jody.”
Jody. Right! God, how could I forget? I’ve been so nervous since booking my interview I’m forgetting everything.
“Phoebe! Mimi! Time for a walk!” I nearly keel over when my pair of golden retrievers comes bounding in from the bedroom. I grab their leashes and open the door for the dog walker. My work will go so much better if my girls aren’t begging for treats or tummy rubs. “Thank you! Sorry, I have a work meeting with a client in like thirty seconds, please make it a super long walk today!”
Jody blinks from behind large wire-rimmed glasses and nods. “Got it. You okay?”
“Fine,” I lie, as my stomach churns and clenches with nerves. “I’m good.”
“Okay!” she says brightly, flashing her braces at me when she grins. Taking the leashes, she gets down and lets my babies slobber all over her and lash their pretty tails. “Let’s go, girls!”