Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“Hm, interesting. Someone bashed me in the head with a blunt instrument right in front of you and you’re not sure who it was.”
“I had blood in my eyes.”
“I’m sure you did.” He comes off the wall, but doesn’t move closer. He shifts away from me, down the hall. “I don’t know what your game is, girl, but you should be careful.”
“I’m not playing a game. I’m gainfully employed by Mr. Bruno.”
He sneers at me. “I bet that’s all you’re doing.” He stares, eyes probing. “I’m going to finish what I started, Jeanie. That night, in your apartment? I wanted to peel the flesh from your bones and I would’ve done it if your guardian angel hadn’t intervened. I’m not finished with you yet.”
“You’re sick,” I whisper, feeling a chill of anxiety course through my veins. “You know that? I’m just a nobody.”
“You’re somebody to me, Jeanie girl.” He laughs gently and turns back to the conference room. “I’m not done with you, not yet.”
He walks away. I watch him go and once he’s out of sight, I collapse against the wall and let myself shake. I refuse to cry—I won’t let that bastard make me cry—but I tremble like a leaf.
Fuck, it’s pathetic. I hate myself for it. But he’s a monster, a psychopathic monster, and there was nothing in his eyes when he told me he wants to peel my skin off. It was sick and cold and dead in there, and I believe him.
That’s the worst part. I believe him.
I return to the conference room after a few minutes. Benedict smiles at me the whole time but Gavino doesn’t seem to notice. He continues his negotiation with Malcolm, and by the end, they’ve reached some sort of agreement.
“We’ll hammer out the details later, but I think we’re in a good spot,” Malcolm says as we walk back out into the heat. “I’ll be honest with you. When Casso approached me, I didn’t think you were serious. I know the Bruno family is wealthy and connected, but I didn’t know you were interested in real estate development.”
“My brother is taking the family in a new direction.” Gavino says it flatly, like he doesn’t agree with that decision.
Malcolm laughs. “I’m sure he is. At any rate, I’ll have a new contract drawn up and sent over. Review it with your lawyers and get back to me soon.” He nods, shakes Gavino’s hand, and disappears back inside.
I catch a glimpse of Benedict standing in the waiting room, smiling, watching.
I shiver as we step into the hundred-degree heat. We hurry to the car, step inside, and start back to the villa. Gavino’s driving, frowning at the road, and he glances at me once we’re out of the parking lot.
“What happened back there?”
I hesitate, leaning against the glass. It’s cool against my cheek. I’d rather not talk about this but I can’t just pretend not to hear him, although it’s tempting to try. “You noticed that?”
“When you came back into the conference room, you looked like you saw a ghost. Benedict said something, didn’t he?”
“Just a threat.”
“Tell me he didn’t touch you.” His voice is low and menacing, and that chill hits me again.
“He didn’t touch me.”
“Good. I’d kill him this time if he did.”
“You wouldn’t want to mess up your precious deal.”
He’s silent as he drives. I wonder if I went too far by engaging with Benedict but I’m too tired and stressed out to care. My mind’s a wreck and a mess, and I wonder if I should start making back-up plans. Benedict is going to try to cut me to pieces and I don’t know how I’m going to get a shot at Malcolm, not when Gavino obviously needs to work with the man.
We’re at a crossroads. What I want doesn’t match what he needs to do, and I’m not sure how we make this work. I shake my head and sigh, watching the landscape flit past, and Gavino’s face darkens as he glares at the road.
“I don’t agree with everything my oldest brother wants,” he says, not looking at me. “I love my family. I’m loyal to the Famiglia. But I worry we’re going in the wrong direction.”
“And what direction is that?”
“He wants to change the way we do business.” He hesitates as if he’s wondering whether he should keep talking. “For a long time, the Famiglia made its money on the streets. We were a mafia family first, and whatever legitimate businesses we ran were all in service of the Famiglia. We took care of our people and focused on flourishing inside of our territory. But we’ve gotten big in the last fifteen years. Bigger than anyone thought we would. Cheap drugs from Mexico flooded over the border thanks to Casso’s wife, Olivia, and her cartel connections, and we’ve been shipping them out all across the country. The money is good, very good, and everyone’s getting fat and happy.”