Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I’m not doing this to get close to Angelo again.
“Boundaries,” I finally manage to say.
He looks amused. “What are those?”
“Don’t be an asshole right now,” I say and grip the edge of the table. “We’re setting boundaries. We’ll have a professional relationship and that’s all. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” he says with a soft smile. “But do you?”
I push myself up again. “I’m going home.”
“But when will I see you again?” He’s trying not to smile, and I can tell he’s making fun of me.
“Never, hopefully.”
“Then I guess I have to follow you home.”
“Please don’t.”
“Goodnight, Sara.”
“Angelo, I need to know you’re not going to follow me home.”
He shrugs, takes my glass, and downs it. “No promises.”
I stand there and consider kicking him hard in the shin and screaming until the veins burst in my eyes, but I’m tired and scared and I want to go home, and there’s a baby growing inside of me now, which means I have to take care of myself before anything else.
Angelo isn’t going anywhere. I can accept that, even if I hate it.
But if he’s staying, there will be limits.
Chapter 4
Angelo
The jail where they’re keeping Nicolas isn’t so bad. It’s new and modern and there’s air conditioning, which isn’t always a given even down here in the South where it’s hotter than hell.
I walk in behind Sara and try not to stare at her ass, but it’s fucking hard. Even in one of those conservative pantsuit things, she looks absolutely stunning: long, dark hair up in a tight bun, shiny and sleek; full figure with hips to die for and a mouth like heaven; and those lovely blue eyes that always seem to sparkle even when she’s glaring, which is most of the time.
Since I met her, I’ve seen Sara smile twice. And both times were when I was fucking her.
“Keep your mouth shut during this,” she whispers sharply as we head into the visitation waiting room. “You’re my legal assistant. Understand?”
“Princess, I doubt anyone’s going to think I’m a legal assistant.”
“Don’t call me that.” She glances back, face hard. Her face is always hard. This girl truly is the epitome of an ice queen, and I don’t know why I’m so drawn to it. Maybe I want to break that chilly exterior. Maybe I like the anger and abuse. Or maybe I just got addicted to her slick pussy and her incredible whimpers and I want more.
Mostly, I think I like the challenge. It’s been a long time since a woman stood up to me and I like the fact that she seems to both want me and despise me at the same time.
And I feel the same way—this girl’s the opposite of what I’ve always gone for. I like warm and inviting and happy. I like when women laugh at my jokes and touch my arm and flirt a little. Sara would rather call me a douchebag than admit she found me charming, which is weirdly alluring. But most of all, she’s from a world I’ll never know.
She’s a lawyer. Maybe she didn’t grow up rich, but she’s privileged. Good schools, good grades, that sort of thing. Hell, she met Carmine at Blackwoods, that fancy fucking college for snooty rich assholes and violent mobster kids, which means she’s either a genius or she’s got connections. I’m betting on both.
Then there’s me. Poor kid from a shit part of the city. Dead parents, no future, nothing to my name except a willingness to bleed.
Sara doesn’t know suffering while I was born into it.
She gets to choose whether she helps a guy like Nicolas, but I don’t have that same freedom. He’s my responsibility—he’s a guy just like me—and I don’t turn my back on my friends.
Either way, when Carmine said I might be working with Sara and asked if what happened at the wedding would complicate things, I told him absolutely not. I practically leapt at the chance to be close to her again.
Because even though we promised that night was all there’d ever be, I still want more, despite these tangled feelings.
That’s my problem though. That’s always been my issue. No matter what, I’m never satisfied.
But for a little while back in that storage room, I felt like I didn’t need anything else in the world.
Only my frigid princess.
Which is why I’m willing to follow her now and play pretend.
We go through the whole process of checking in. I’ve visited guys in jail before, but never as a lawyer. The whole thing is different: instead of looking at us like we belong behind bars with the other scum, the prison staff is actually being nice for once. Probably because we’re in suits and we have briefcases and we’ve got power.
That’s what it means to be on this side of the law. Protection, a little bit of power.