Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71911 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
I kissed him back, feeling the same love for him that I always felt.
He stepped away and grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses.
He was in a good mood. A better mood than he’d been in in a long time. I hoped that meant our separation had made him reconsider what he’d asked, that it had given him second thoughts about changing the parameters of our relationship. “I’m glad you’re hungry.”
“Baby, I’m always hungry for your cooking.” He turned back to me and placed the bottle on the kitchen island before he began the process of uncorking the wine. His left hand bore no ring, like he hadn’t taken it with him or had forgotten to put it back on. And then just above the collar of his shirt, I saw a distinct mark …the color of pink lipstick.
He didn’t notice my stare as he poured the glasses of wine.
I was sick. Too sick to eat. Too sick to pretend.
He carried the glasses to the dining table and gave me a moment to myself.
I stared down at the chicken I’d made, the dinner I’d made because I knew he liked it. I’d slept alone in our bed last night after Theo’s driver had dropped me off at home. I’d decided to tell Bolton that I’d changed my mind about everything and hoped he hadn’t already fucked someone.
But he jumped the first chance he got.
“Baby?”
“Hmm?” I looked up when I heard his voice.
“You alright? I said your name a couple times.”
No, I wasn’t alright. I’d thought I was already broken after our conversation, but now I realized my broken bones had been ground into dust. And the worst part of it? He was happy, the happiest he’d been in a long time. “Just realized I forgot the rice.”
“It’s fine.” He carried the dish to the dining table. “We don’t need it.”
6
THEO
I entered the De Luca, one of the restaurants that I owned, a respectable business that washed my money and housed my criminal activities—and none of my customers had a clue. They got their reservations for anniversaries and birthday celebrations, not knowing about the underworld that lay below.
The lights were left on, but the restaurant was dark, the tables covered in fresh tablecloths in preparation for the next day. The floor had been swept and mopped. After the closing crew locked the doors and set the alarm, my crew descended into the depths.
There was a stairway at the back of the kitchen, locked during business hours. One time, my manager had asked what was behind the door, and when I didn’t answer, he didn’t ask again. I took the circular staircase down to the bottom, far below the restaurant, to the bunker that had been reconstructed into a bar. There were other passageways that led here through the sewer system, but I preferred not to go that way.
When I stepped through the door, loud music greeted me, along with a cloud of smoke. Some of the guys were gambling at their tables. Others were hustling the waitresses who were also prostitutes—at least most of them.
When they realized I was there, the energy changed. It dipped noticeably, like the guys didn’t know what kind of mood I was going to be in when I walked in there.
Shit, I didn’t even know.
I found Octavio at one of the tables and dropped into the chair across from him. A beer appeared out of nowhere and was placed in front of me by one of my favorite girls. Another brought a tray of cigars, serving me like some kind of king. “Thanks, sweetheart.” I immediately lit up and let the smoke float to the ceiling.
If a bullet didn’t kill me, it would be lung or liver cancer—guaranteed.
I looked at Octavio, and the conversation in the underground tunnel slowly returned to normal. One of my properties was another meeting place for us. This was a more casual spot to solidify our camaraderie. Nothing brought men closer together than booze, cigars, and women. “So?”
“He’s pretty stealthy.”
“Yeah? Stealthy isn’t the word I would use to describe running away from a fight like some chickenshit.” Draven had captured me as a way to draw out Axel, but in the end, we got the upper hand and he ran off like a fucking coward.
“He’s more cautious now.”
“He can be as cautious as he wants, but I’ll still find that motherfucker.” Dante had opened up a can of worms when he’d recruited his friend from the north. Draven thought he could take my drug business from me like I was giving out candy on Halloween. “He knows this isn’t over, so either he’ll strike or I’ll strike. There’s no way one of us isn’t dead by the end of this.”
Octavio smashed his cigar into the ashtray to put it out. “I’ll keep looking.”