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)
That bastard got me fired.
But once they’re gone and I’m alone again, and my brain starts to work, I realize something more important: that bastard saved my butt.
Without him, Malcolm would’ve walked in on me going through those files. There’s no excuse in the world that would’ve explained my presence in his office all on my own. His mail gets dropped on his secretary’s desk, and she brings anything important to him personally. Nobody goes in here, nobody at all.
If Gavino hadn’t kissed me and made it seem like we were having some crazy sexual encounter, Malcolm would’ve been even more suspicious of me.
And Malcolm Strafford is not the kind of man I want to cross.
Not openly, anyway. Not yet.
“Crap,” I whisper as I drift into the hallway.
Gavino Bruno saved my life. He did it by forcing a kiss on my lips, by pulling my hair, by shoving his hand down my pants.
The thrill lingers in my core. The desire’s still there, simmering.
But as I leave the building, my dignity in tatters, my future plans shattered into a million pieces, I realize something even worse.
Gavino Bruno, of the Bruno Famiglia. The most powerful organized crime family in all of Phoenix, Arizona, and possibly all of the Southwest.
I was saved by a kiss from a vicious gangster, and I don’t know why he did it.
Chapter 3
Jeanie
“Cheer up, sweetie, we all get fired sometimes.” Giovanna pours a shot of cheap vodka and plunks it down onto the bar in front of me. “Go ahead, on the house. Call it a consolation prize.”
I frown at the shot and I don’t want to take it. I barely drink liquor, much less the stuff that tastes like rubbing alcohol, but I know better than to turn down a free drink from Giovanna. I grab it, throw it back, and choke it down without sputtering—too much, anyway.
Giovanna laughs. The old woman’s a firebrand with salt-and-pepper hair cut short in a curly poof and wrinkles etched into her skin like rivers on a map. Her dark eyes are sharp, but kind, and she’s quick to laugh but also quick to anger. Nobody messes with Giovanna, especially not in her own bar.
“Thanks, I think,” I say once I can speak again. The cheap vodka simmers in my guts, and I feel warm and fuzzy. I sip my wine and wonder if maybe I should cool it on the alcohol.
It’s ten past four in the afternoon and I lost the most important job of my life yesterday. Maybe I should stay sober and plan on what to do next.
But to hell with it.
“I remember the first time I got fired,” Giovanna says fondly, smiling into the distance of her memory. “I was a waitress at a diner and this old regular grabbed my ass. I told him to go screw himself and the owner fired me. Ah, those were good days.”
“Sounds like they were awful days.”
“I was young and had the world ahead of me, just like you. Don’t worry, there will be more jobs.” She frowns down at the end of the bar where a group sat down a moment later. “Speaking of which. Hey, you lot, what the hell do you want?” She walks off to serve the young men.
I lean forward and sip my wine. If this were a normal situation, Giovanna would be right. I’m young and that mailroom job didn’t really matter. I mean, who cares about making barely enough to pay rent in some grunt dead-end position at a horrible company filled with assholes and thieves?
I cared, because it was the first step of my plan.
And now that plan is ruined.
I sigh and squeeze my eyes shut. I try not to cry but it’s hard when it feels like my life is over. All this hard work, all this planning, it’s gone now because I made a stupid mistake and some crazy mafia bastard walked in on me going through Malcolm’s files. I keep thinking about that guy, about his handsome face and mocking smile, and the way he pulled me into his lap without hesitation and kissed me like he really meant it.
God, what a kiss. I’ve never been touched like that before—not even close. He did it like he wanted me and couldn’t keep his hands to himself. Like he was overcome with desire, and I was the object of his impossible need.
And for one incredible, heady moment, his hand between my legs, his lips against mine, I felt better than I’ve ever felt in my miserable life.
I shudder at the thought.
Gavino Bruno is everything I hate. He’s just like Malcolm Strafford: womanizer, criminal, violent thug, self-righteous asshole. Everyone in my world knows who the Bruno family are, and everyone seems to know Gavino in particular. While most of the Bruno family stays in their big old mansion compound and runs their organization from behind their big walls, Gavino’s been out on the streets all these years.