Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 118245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118245 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 591(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Tears clouded my vision, and my hand shook so badly I dropped the phone several times.
No matter how many times I called, there was no answer.
It didn’t even ring.
As if her phone were dead… as if she were… oh my God!
My phone fell from my hand as I clutched at my middle and rocked back and forth.
What had we done?
What had we done?
Strong hands lifted me from the floor and turned me into a solid chest. A powerful arm circled over my shoulders while another pressed my head against a masculine shoulder.
As I continued to shake and tremble, the hold on me tightened. “Shhh. Shhh.”
At first, I thought it was Matteo. It took several moments for my shell-shocked mind to catch up to what was happening.
It was the man’s cologne, an icy scent of juniper, pepper, and sage.
It lacked the spicy warmth of Matteo’s, which smelled more like pinewood and burnt sugar.
And this chest was solid and firm but different from Matteo's bulkier muscles.
I pulled my head back sharply and stared up into the towering form of… diavolo.
The sinfully handsome man with piercing black eyes and jet-black hair smiled.
That was when I realized I had whispered the word, devil, out loud.
It wasn’t my fault.
The man had appeared like Mephistopheles, straight out of Doctor Faustus. Dressed in unrelenting black, his lowered brow, high cheekbones and sharp jawline turned his appearance into the living embodiment of the devil or some classic villain from literature.
“That isn’t the first time I’ve been mistaken for the devil by a beautiful woman.”
His voice was like ice sliding on glass, cold and smooth.
With my palms, I tried to break his embrace. “I’m so sorry. You startled me.”
He held tight as he cupped my cheek and wiped away my tears with the side of his thumb. “What has made you cry, bellissima?”
I was too overwrought to lie. “My sister, Antonia. Something has happened to her.”
His large hand moved to stroke my hair. “Ah, you must be Matteo Cavalieri’s piccolo piantagrane.”
I bristled at being called Matteo’s little troublemaker. “You presume too much, signore. Please unhand me.”
His gaze narrowed as his lips thinned.
I was sure the rolling thunder I just heard was only in my imagination.
Or at least was pretty sure.
“Careful, piccolo piantagrane. This stunt of yours has made you many enemies. I wouldn’t recommend adding me to the list.”
A fist twisted inside my chest as my lungs seized. I had to force my words out. “Were you sent by my father to kill me?”
His eyebrow lifted. “I give those type of orders, I don’t take them. Especially not from an insignificant zip from some backwater town. But tell me, why would you assume your father wants you dead?”
My father would go absolutely apoplectic if he heard this man referring to him as a zip, essentially an unsophisticated and undisciplined Sicilian mafioso with no skill or tact.
“Who are you?”
His hand moved to my chin. Tilting my head back, he glared down at me. “Do I strike you as a patient or kind man?”
My eyes widened as I jerked back, once more trying to break free.
His grip on me was too powerful.
I licked my lips, regretting the action the moment his gaze fixated on my mouth. I shook my head, then whispered, “No, signore.”
Common sense would have dictated that I lie to placate him, but the dangerous energy that literally radiated off him like cold fusion warned me against it.
He nodded as the corner of his mouth lifted. “Exactly. So why would you risk annoying me by asking me a question instead of answering mine?”
The lump of fear in my throat nearly choked me. “I’m sorry.”
There was a subtle tic over his right cheek as he waited for me to continue. Clearly, he was losing patience with me, something he had all but warned me would be detrimental to my well-being.
Again, my mind screamed for me to lie, lie, lie my ass off, but I couldn’t.
Like the devil, this man’s soulless black eyes seemed to see right through me.
“Because I think he murdered my mother years ago and may have just harmed my sister.”
There was a bitter taste in my mouth after uttering the accusation out loud. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was a stranger, my fear, or the strange sense of betrayal from telling this man before I confided in Matteo.
Without a word, he released me.
I fell backward against the bookshelves. Reaching behind me, I clutched at the nearby fireplace mantle to remain upright, since I didn’t trust my knees not to buckle again.
Keeping his unnerving gaze on me, he reached into his designer black suit jacket.
I gasped, then held my breath, expecting him to pull out a gun.
Would he shoot me right here, in the middle of the Cavalieris' library?
Would he at least show me the kindness of hitting me between the eyes so there would be no pain?