Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 40037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40037 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 200(@200wpm)___ 160(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Bright golden sun strummed electric rays along the pulsing blue sky, making every breath of air I inhaled, a kiss from a supernatural goddess.
I curved my lips. “This is truly Paradise.”
Although we were in the far west, I could see an expanse of breathtaking buildings. They were tall and lit up like New York’s neon-bathed Broadway. They were shiny and new, like they’d just been built yesterday.
I gazed down below. Designer cars sped along the roads.
Could this be a new home base?
All my life, I’d searched for a place to call home. Having no parents would do that. As a kid, I hopped around from house to house, staying with this uncle and that. When I turned into an adult, I could never stay in one spot.
But. . .the energy here. There’s something about it.
I’d only been in Paradise one morning, and I could see myself setting down headquarters here. I could envision myself building a palace to rest my head.
Perhaps it would be right in the center of the whole city .
I glanced at Leonardo. “When will Tomasso arrive?”
“I was told that he just finished breakfast and will be heading to us shortly.”
“I’m eager to learn about this mission.” I returned back to the breathtaking view. “What have you discovered about Paradise so far?”
“A group called The Syndicate rules the city.”
I smirked. “At least for now.”
“Correct. At least for now.” Leonardo nodded. “The Syndicate consists of four different gangs united and working together.”
“Very interesting.”
Leonardo pointed in the direction of North Paradise. “This area is controlled by a man named, Dimitri Ivanov.”
I frowned. “A Russian? Any connection to the Bratva?”
“Distant connections, but this group of Russians run their own unit. They call themselves the Flower Mafia.”
I laughed. “Already, this city is entertaining me. If we kill this Flower Mafia, let’s make sure to cover them in petals.”
“Do you think Don Enzo sent you here to destroy the Syndicate?”
“I don’t have many jobs, Leonardo. Regardless, my best service is death.” I eyed him. “Tell me about the other three gangs.”
Leonardo pointed in front of us. “The Four Aces run the East. The leader is named Lei Hao.”
“And South Paradise?”
“A man named Marcelo dominates the South with his crew called Rowe Street Mob.”
I bobbed my head. “And who runs the West, where we are right now?”
A voice sounded behind me. “That, my friend, is why we’re here.”
I turned around.
Tomasso strolled onto the balcony.
He was a tall man with pale skin and dark, wavy hair. He carried himself with an air of confidence and his dark eyes were always kind and welcoming.
Tommaso walked over to me. “How are you doing, Santino?”
“I’m fine.” I embraced him and then patted his back. “However, I’m intrigued with why I’ve been called here.”
“And I’m sure you’re confused with why we will be working together.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I am.”
“We’re planning a wedding together.”
I scrunched my face in confusion. “Excuse me?”
A nervous expression covered Tomasso’s face. “So, to answer your question to Leonardo, the Killer Crows run the West.”
“Killer Crows? They’re the fourth gang in the Syndicate?” I laughed. “What a bunch of beautiful names. Too bad we’ll have to kill them all.”
“Well. . .not exactly.” Tommaso went over to the balcony railing. “Wow, Santino. You may have the best view in the city.”
I growled, “Get on with it, Tommaso.”
He sighed. “My people are setting up the presentation in your suite’s living room. They should be done now.”
“Presentation.” I frowned. “What is all of this? Just tell me what’s going on.”
“Santino, the Don, was adamant with how I passed this order to you. He wants me to take my time.”
I stifled another growl. “Then, let the presentation begin.”
“I just ask that you do not shoot the messenger.” Tommaso headed off the balcony and back inside.
We’ll see.
Leonardo and I followed him through my bedroom and then down the staircase.
Like the city, the Obsidian Hotel penthouse suite oozed wealth and beauty— Italian marble floors, golden fixtures, red Italian leather furniture, heavy German drapery, Persian rugs, the whole shebang. It was two-stories. Large windows framed the outside world. More doors opened to wide balconies. The suite’s interior represented an inviting color scheme of reds, blacks, and golds. The furniture was plush.
When we arrived at the first level of the penthouse, I spotted a massive white screen standing several feet from the couch.
A man worked on some space-inspired high tech projector in the back of the room.
Tomasso gestured to him. “Knight, are you ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
Tomasso pointed to the couch. “Please, have a seat, Santino. Would you like a drink?”
“This is my penthouse.” I went over to the couch and sat down. “I don’t need a host.”
“But you may need a drink, my friend.”
Scowling, I sat down. “Get on with it.”
Tomasso snapped his fingers at Knight.
The man pressed a remote control.
The room darkened to pitch black.