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)
Before he can say anything else, I reach for his waist and grab his gun.
“You won’t use it,” he says confidently.
“Yes, I damn well will,” I reply, then shoot his leg. He releases his grip on me.
I drop the gun and then say, “Marry your fucking mother for all I care!” I scream at him before I run, as fast as my legs will fucking carry me.
CHAPTER 56
Crue
Runaway bride and a fucking bullet wound in my leg.
Perfect!
Just fucking perfect!
“It’s fine. She just nicked me,” I say as my mother fusses around me while I am trying to brush her away.
“You are too kind to that woman. It’s time to show her the real you,” she demands, vengeance lacing her tone, and her eyes are flinty as all fuck.
“No. I won’t force Rya to marry me.”
“You kind of just tried,” Angel points out. “And I knew this wouldn’t work.”
“Fuck! You really pissed her off,” Dominic adds.
“Everyone shut the fuck up!” I yell, and the priest gasps. “Jesus Christ,” I mutter under my breath.
Flashes of her beautiful, ruthless smile come to mind at the memory of her first asking me if I’d ever been shot. Then, the warning shot at the lamp beside my head in her apartment. I begin to laugh, a vexing delight bubbling from my stomach. I should have fucking known she would be the first and only to ever actually shoot me.
The others look at one another, their faces showing concern but also waiting for the inevitable explosion they know is coming.
Time is running out.
I only have a few months left until this contract needs to be signed, and here I am, bleeding all over a chapel floor where I was meant to marry my incredibly reluctant bride.
“Let’s get you up,” Dominic offers.
I push him away. “I can get the fuck up myself.” Goddamn, this shit hurts.
But not as much as the pain and wrath I will rain down on her.
Retaliation, as she will find out, is a real bitch!
As I sit back in my leather office chair, I down the whisky while watching the blaze live on the news channel. Dominic checks on me like he’s been doing all afternoon.
“Right on cue,” he says to break the ice.
I turn up the volume, purposefully ignoring him.
“Firefighters were on the scene immediately. But what’s left of the Torrisi mansion…” The reporter turns to the burned-out shell. “Well, as you can see, there isn’t much. It’s said that the family had gathered only an hour before, continuing belated birthday celebrations for the head of the family, Andreas Torrisi, when something short-circuited in the home, setting it ablaze. Others suspect that with recent news and conflict around Matteo Torrisi’s case, where he was found innocent, this might somehow be a retaliation to that decision. Once we know more, we will bring it to you.”
I turn the television off, satisfied by at least that much. The explosives we used in their home that night were intentionally placed to make it look like an accident. And my meeting was only a distraction for what was really at play.
A low tap comes on the door. “Boss? There’s a delivery.”
I nod at Dominic to let him in. The man strolls in with what looks like a white cake box.
I motion for my man to open the lid.
Dominic and I peer in simultaneously, and despite my mood, a cruel smile spreads on my lips. It’s Francesca’s head, quite literally on a silver platter.
“You played them against each other,” Dominic says.
Little had they realized that their time would come to an end exactly as I expected it to.
Francesca had led me into their home hoping she would soon become heir once I told her of my plan. And Andreas had discovered the identity of the person who put out the hit on me and, as promised, delivered their head to me. I look over to the recent documents signed by Andreas Torrisi, granting me fifty-one percent of all profits of the whiskey business. And because there is no longer a known heir for the business, as the largest shareholder, it now belongs to me.
“This is a huge win today,” Dominic says, but his voice grows quiet at my steely expression. I throw back my whiskey, furious.
It should feel like a win today.
But this doesn’t get me any closer to fulfilling the contract I need and have fixed on for half my life.
“What are you going to do, Crue? She won’t come back.”
“You think I don’t fucking know that?” I yell, throwing my empty glass across the room, the glass hitting the wall and breaking into a thousand pieces. A hot twang of pain floods my leg again. Shit. I split open the stitches.
“I’m going to do what I always do. I’ll fix this mess up.”
CHAPTER 57
Rya
How dare he? Who the fuck does he think he is?