Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
We lounge on leather couches, and there is a coffee table with lines of cocaine between us. Fire is crackling in the fireplace beside us. Where he has four bodyguards behind him, I only have one. And although this is his home, I lean back and cross one leg over the other, comfortably in control.
“Help yourself.” Andreas offers the cocaine as he leans over and snorts a line.
“No, thank you. I already get a portion of the profit in what you sell. I have no need to try it.”
Andreas gives me a tight smile. “Is our current agreement something you want to address?”
I shrug and take a mouthful of the Torrisi whisky. It has a sharp after bite that’s not to my liking. “Not just yet. I came to address another matter.”
I watch as he grinds his teeth. It must be so easy for him to envision shooting me down right here and now. But he would be nothing without what my great-grandfather provided his family before and what I so generously allow them to have now.
“What matter might that be?” he asks while lighting a cigar and brushing back his gelled hair.
“Two weeks ago, someone attempted a hit on me outside one of my establishments.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But that could come from any family here in New York. You’ve ruffled some feathers since arriving,” he says, stating facts.
I pull a tight smile that’s anything but friendly. “I also had your nephew’s lawyer with me at the time, who could have been collateral damage in the process.”
It takes him a moment to register that fact. “This is about Miss Ricci? You know I wouldn’t want any harm to come to her. Why would we? She is the only lawyer who could possibly get my nephew out of the shit he found himself in.”
“And yet when I track it back, a man named Morpheus said it was the Torrisi family that called in the hit. He told me this right before I shot him in the head.”
Realization dawns on his face.
“So now we have a predicament.”
He grows paler, but his eyes begin to dilate from the drugs. One of his men reaches for his gun, but Andreas puts his hands up. “No. There’s no need for that. I swear to you, I have no idea who called in that hit, but I will find out and deal with them myself.”
I click my tongue. “Ah… but I don’t think that will be enough. You see, I’ve grown rather fond of Miss Ricci, considering she is to be my wife.”
Andreas turns a shade of green.
“You have one week,” I say, standing. And for the first time in my life, I’ve been diplomatic.
“O-one week for w-what?” he stutters.
“I want the head of the person who organized the hit on me. I will also send documentation over for you to sign that for the next year, I will receive fifty-one percent of all profits from this disgusting whisky. Oh, and of course, the drugs you ship through that warehouse.”
“Fifty-one percent?” he says, shocked at the amount.
“And if it isn’t signed, I will kill every single person in your family. Your sister. Your wife. And your mistress with your six-year-old little Whinny. Cute kid, by the way.”
“How do you know about—”
I glare over my shoulder. “And I think Miss Ricci deserves a very generous bonus for her hard work on your shithead nephew.”
Casually, I throw my glass and its contents into the fireplace. Flames erupt on contact. I wait for him to turn on me. For some action to take place. But instead, he starts yelling at his men to get busy on my orders.
“Oh, by the way.” I linger at the door. “Happy Birthday. I hope you make it to your next.”
CHAPTER 45
Crue
“You let her get this drunk?” I growl furiously to Dawson.
Rya’s chuckling to herself, a glass of champagne clutched in her hand. “You know, I was always told to be a good girl at these events,” she says to Dawson as if they’ve been friends forever. “Don’t say too much. Sit tall. Be in your room by ten. If you hear a noise, hide behind your bodyguard.” She points to me and snorts. “But who needs a guard when you always have a seriously pissed-off Monti at your side? I mean, seriously, look at him. He always looks like he’s just bitten into a lemon.”
I guarantee Dawson an intimate death with my gaze alone. He tries to pry the drink from her. “No offense, but how do you try to force her to do anything when she doesn’t want to?”
He hands her over to me. Well, shit, at least she can still stand on her own. Sort of.
“Are you having a mental break down?” I ask her.
She stands tall. Deadly serious as her gaze lands on me. “I don’t know, maybe I’m on my period again.”