Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Text me the second you’re on your way home.”
“I will.”
“Please be careful.”
“Always.”
Her eyes were full of despair, despair that couldn’t be resolved until I walked back through the door. They continued to plead with me, like her silent begging would make me decide to bow out and let the guys go without me.
But I was no coward. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
“Hours?” she asked, dismayed.
“Sorry, baby.” I moved to her, my hands gripping her arms before cupping her face. “I’ll be hungry by the time I get back. Make me something.”
Her eyes were focused on my chest, heavy in sadness.
I brought her close and kissed her forehead before I pulled her into me, my chin resting on the top of her head. After my divorce, I hadn’t thought I’d ever want to be married again, to be vulnerable to another woman’s talons of betrayal. But I loved it. Loved every moment of it—even the hard parts.
We met in the heart of Tuscany, in a villa on twenty acres of property, far away from everyone and everything. It was one of my properties, a place I used when Florence became too busy in the summertime. But I hadn’t been there in a long time.
“Where’s Russell?” Theo asked when we pulled up to the villa. The lights in the three-story villa were on. The landscape lights were on too, showing the majesty of the property. Most of the greenery was dead from winter’s bite, and the jasmine flowers wouldn’t bloom again until spring. But it was breathtaking, nonetheless.
“I left him with Scarlett.”
“He’s your best guy.”
I got out of the car and walked up to the property. “That’s why I left him.”
Dante hadn’t said a word since he’d gotten in the car. Hardly looked at me, the accusation heavy in his energy.
We moved to the back patio, the stream of lights across the terrace bathing the potted trees in a glow. The fountain was on, the sound of running water soothing. The pool was in the distance, ice-cold in the season.
I’d have to bring Scarlett here in the summertime.
A table with several chairs was set up on the patio, so we took a seat.
The guards were placed around the property, carrying machine guns. The ones inside were snipers, so they could take out the guys through the windows. It was a chilly night, the fog visible even in the darkness, but to me, it was refreshing.
One of the guys lit the bonfires, so soon, the terrace was bright and filled with a bit of warmth.
Theo looked at his phone for a few minutes before he slipped it into the pocket of his coat.
Dante still hadn’t said a word, his eyes on the closest bonfire.
I preferred Dante quiet, so I didn’t coax him into conversation.
Minutes passed and nothing happened.
Theo lifted his sleeve and looked at his watch. “They’re late.”
Dante kept his eyes on the fire. “They are coming all the way from Colombia.”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “You want to do business with us, then be on time.”
“Maybe they don’t want to do business,” Dante said coldly. “Just going to show up and blow us all to hell.”
Theo turned to me. “Is he always this pessimistic?”
“Yep,” I said. “Debbie Downer.”
Dante gave us both a razor-sharp stare.
Theo decided to make small talk. “How are things with the wife?”
“Good,” I said. “Whenever her father isn’t meddling, it’s always good.”
Dante said nothing to that.
A moment later, one of the guards raised his hand and gestured to me across the terrace.
“It’s showtime,” I said.
“I’ve got backup if we need it,” Theo said. “Just down the road.”
Dante stayed silent.
Footsteps were audible, even over the noise of the fountain, before they became visible. A group of men approached, five of them in total, all dressed in t-shirts like they didn’t take our winter weather seriously. Two of them had face tattoos, and another one had eyes so wide it looked like he had a direct view into the horrors of the underworld.
We didn’t rise from our chairs. Just watched them with indifferent eyes.
They moved to the other side of the bonfire, where the chairs were scattered. They dropped into them and stared at us, taking several moments to evaluate us as opponents rather than business partners.
My guys had checked them not only for weapons, but for explosives wired to their clothing, in case this was a suicide bombing. We’d even installed a metal detector to catch anything they could have. Even if it was an innocent piercing, it had to go.
The standoff ensued, them sizing us up as we did the same in return.
I was the one to break the silence. “Tensions are heavy. Hatred is rooted in your bones. It’s understandable. But none of that would have happened if Christian hadn’t foolishly attempted to take a business from men he greatly underestimated—and touch one of their wives. I’m not sorry he’s dead, not after he made my wife bleed, but I am sorry that our thriving partnership has turned to shit.”