Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
I looked over at Luca. He sat beside his father at the front of the room on a chair that looked like a throne. Marcello was on his father’s left side, while Bastian and Damian were next to Luca. It was an odd configuration that showed the balance of power within the family. The chairs had high backs with intricate symbols carved into the wood. An S with a snake wrapped around it.
A snake... like The Serpents.
Luca rested his elbow on the arm, leaning over to speak to his father, who gave him a curt nod. His terrifying gaze swept over the room and landed on me. Were they talking about me?
Sonny slid his hand to my lower back and sipped from his glass.
I looked up at him, inspecting his handsome face. “What’s your secret? You’re too happy to be a founder’s son.”
He shrugged. “Lots of alcohol, loose women, and the feel of the open sea on my face.”
“How did you get the nickname Sonny?”
“Because of my last name. Mac is Irish for son. My father is Shane Cormac III. I’m the fourth.” He rolled his eyes as if it annoyed him to share the same name as his relatives. “Since my family owns Mac Corp, one of my uncles thought he was funny and started calling me Sonny Mac. It was already getting too hard to tell all the Shane’s apart, so everyone started calling me Sonny, and the name stuck.”
Pops crossed the room and tapped Sonny on the shoulder. “Mind if I borrow my granddaughter for a moment?”
Sonny flashed a smile. “Go ahead, Mr. Wellington. She’s all yours.”
Pops extended his hand. “Can I have this dance?”
The band played a slow tune, all instrumental with a soothing beat. I took his hand, placing the other on his shoulder. We swayed back and forth, gliding along the dance floor, pretending as if everyone’s eyes were not on us.
He tipped his head as we passed an older couple who smiled at us. “You’re getting along well, I see.”
“As expected.”
Pops spun me around, so I faced the Salvatores. Luca burned a hole through me like he had X-ray vision. His intense gaze made me feel naked, bared to him in front of everyone. It was frustrating and intoxicating and also confusing.
“Right corner,” Pops whispered into my ear. “Four men, all in black tuxedos and carnival masks. Do you see them?”
Pops spun me again, and four tall, stunning men stared at us.
“Who are they?”
It was hard to tell with everyone wearing masks.
“The people your brother chased after.”
A rush of excitement shot through my veins. “The Serpents?”
“Yes.”
Last year, The Serpents invited my brother to join them. After years of trying to gain their attention, Aiden succeeded. And not long after, he vanished like a cloud of smoke.
“The only way out is through,” Pops reminded me.
The first time he recited the quote, I didn’t understand what he meant. I had later learned the original quote came from the Robert Frost poem Servant of Servants.
“One of The Serpents will ask to dance with you,” he said in a hushed tone. “Say yes. Let him lead.”
“How are you so sure?”
“I overheard them talking about you.”
As he turned me, I scanned the crowd. Everyone looked happy, entranced by the music, alcohol, and gourmet food. They were blind or oblivious, not the least bit affected by the overwhelming power of the Salvatores.
“I need to get out of this house,” I told Pops. “Marcello hasn’t let me out of his sight. I have no freedom. It’s like I live in a cage.”
Just like Evangeline Franco.
“Your belongings are on the way to Devil’s Creek. Everything will go back to normal this week,” he assured me, though I did not find his words at all comforting.
I sighed. “How do you figure?”
“I rented a space in town for the new Wellington Architecture and Design. You can go back to work this week if you’re up to it. Your parents have a handful of clients waiting for them to open their doors.”
I stared at him in disbelief. “So soon? How?”
“When you have enough money, you can make anything happen.”
Pops twirled me one last time, giving me the perfect view of the Salvatore table.
“Anything except make the Salvatores go away,” I said through clenched teeth.
He followed my gaze. “Arlo doesn’t want money.”
“No, he wants revenge.”
I picked up the spotlight lamp from the ground and inspected our work. We covered the bakery's brick wall in various shades of red, white, and black spray paint. A simple mural I helped Aiden create so he didn’t get caught by the police. I figured if I were with my brother, he would have less chance of getting busted for defacing public property. So I stood beside him and admired the Greek mythology-inspired painting.
He hugged me against his side. “When we work together, it’s like we have twin ESP and the muse takes over.”