Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“She deserved to know. She wanted to hear it from a friend. You should have told her by no—”
He shushed his sister and growled, “Now, Chloe,” a bit harsher.
It was impossible not to obey him, and she hated that her feet began to take her out of the room.
Holding her breath as she passed him, she stared at his cold, blue eyes that made ice run through her veins. How did I not see it? The mafia practically oozed off him. The underboss screamed from him. The boogieman … Now she knew why they had given him that name.
When he finally moved his eyes from hers to Maria, she was able to pick up her feet faster.
Running down the steps, she was prepared to run out the front door, when an unhappy Drago blocked her way.
“Office,” he snapped at her like he knew exactly what she was thinking.
With nothing left but to accept her fate, she headed toward Lucca’s office, hoping he wouldn’t hurt his own sister and would let her go. Then maybe, just maybe, Maria would take pity on her and tell Amo about her kidnapping.
In his office, she sat down and began to wring her hands. Her hands were almost raw by the time the office door opened a while later. She didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. You didn’t need to see him to feel his presence.
Lucca took a seat behind his desk, silently staring at her.
Looking at the hands, she squeezed them with all her might. “D-Did you h-hurt her?”
“I thought about it,” he revealed. “But no. Drago is taking her home.”
Relief flooded her that Maria was okay. At the same time, she was terrified to hear him be so honest that the thought had occurred to him. She now only had one last hope, and it depended upon Maria. Please tell Amo. He must save me.
He leaned back in his chair. “Tell me, darlin’, why are you more scared of me now than you were before?”
“B-Because now I know the real you,” she whispered.
He raised his eyebrows. “Have I not shown you the real me from the moment I met you?”
Her eyes drifted up to look at him. His eyes had returned to the blue-green shade that had captivated her since their first meeting in the gazebo, just like his rough appearance had. He was unlike the others; darker than the others, and yes, she always knew that.
“But now I-I know the truth no one would tell me because they thought they were protecting me.”
No one is who they seem. She hadn’t felt this alone since she had first gotten her scars.
“All you had to do was ask. I would have told you everything and anything you wanted to know about me, about the family. I told you I would never lie to you, and I meant it. You were just too scared to ask, because then it would have been real. That’s why I was waiting for you to ask me. I wanted you to be ready for the truth.”
Her eyes drifted back to her lap, knowing he was right. That was why she hadn’t asked him.
“And yes, they thought they were protecting you, but I didn’t agree with it. They lied to you; pretended to be something they weren’t. I never have. I’ve made it obvious who I am since the beginning. I’ve only ever wanted you to see me for who I am, Chloe.”
She remembered back to the night he had repeatedly slammed the bat down on the lifeless body, and how he had looked right into her eyes, showing his true self …
The thought that was meant only for her passed her lips, “You’re a killer.”
“Yes, I am. I have killed many and tortured more.” The dark voice filled the space between them.
Chloe kept wringing her now tortured hands at how visible the monster in him was. She needed to get away from him. Far, far away.
Trying to calm herself, she began repeating the words, “Amo will come for me.”
Lucca’s voice turned deadly. “He’s a killer, too, darlin’.”
She started shaking her head, not wanting to hear it.
“He’s killed, and so have Nero and Vincent.”
Shaking her head harder, she refused to believe it. “No, Elle wouldn’t be with—”
“She learned to accept it, just like you will.” He said it like it was a promise.
“Amo’s not like you.”
“No, he isn’t,” he agreed. “Amo pretends to be something he’s not with you.”
Again, she shook her head, not believing.
She repeated the words of her last hope, “He’s going to save me.”
Standing, he went to the other side of the desk, towering over her. “You think Amo will save you from me?” He took a strand of her hair, wrapping it tightly around his finger.
Her breath caught in her throat, her words no longer able to come out.