Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
I didn’t bother arguing with her. Not when there was a gun pointed at my head. I took another bite. “Doesn’t your arm hurt yet?”
“Fuck you,” she muttered and flung the gun on the bed.
“This is terrible food.”
“I want you to leave. Right now, or you’re going to regret it,” she threatened adorably.
“You know I’m not going to hurt you. Why are you so panicked by my presence?” I asked calmly.
“What am I supposed to feel? Relieved?” She picked up her phone from the carpet. “I'm going to call the cops.”
I shrugged. “If you do, the media will cover the story, and everyone will know you’re back in this house.”
“My life is a living hell and it’s all your fault,” she blurted out suddenly. Her lower lip trembled and she dropped her head to hide it from me.
“You wish I hadn’t saved you that day, don’t you?” I asked softly.
She didn’t lift her head, but I knew she was listening. How I wanted to pull her poor grieving body into my arms, hold her close, and never let this cruel world hurt her again. But she would probably scratch my eyes out. I turned and stared out the window.
“Because of that incident, you sense your father felt indebted to me. And that was why he could never let go of my case even though it was dangerous.”
“If you hadn’t saved me, I would be dead,” she whispered.
I turned to face her. She was staring at me and her beautiful eyes looked enormous. “Yes, but since I did your father is dead. Isn’t that the dilemma you’re struggling with to handle his loss?”
As if she could no longer bear her own weight she sank heavily to the edge of the bed and buried her face in her hands. A long silence ensued between us.
“Don’t join the program,” I said earnestly. “It’s a bad deal.”
“Don’t try to tell me what to do,” she replied. “I can still shoot you.”
She was cute when she was being unreasonable. I turned away to hide my smile. “You’ve been subpoenaed so you’ll need a lawyer.”
She sighed heavily.
“It’s too dangerous for you to find one yourself, and you don’t know enough about what you are up against to choose the right one. I'll find the very best one for you and send him over tomorrow. He’ll be here around eleven to see you. Thanks for the pizza.” I got to my feet then and started to head toward the door.
“What if they get me before the night is over?” she asked.
I turned around to look at her and at that moment I knew. I would protect her with my life. Not because I owed her father, but because … because. What the hell was going on with me? Was I losing my mind over a girl? I shook my head to clear it. And when I spoke my voice was hard.
“Every inch of your home is under the watch of my men. Even a cockroach cannot get into the house without my men’s knowledge. As for the window in your father's office, it will be fixed in a few hours … so don’t panic if you hear any drilling noises. We’ll try to keep it brief. This is not the ideal location for you, but you are well protected. No one can harm you.
“When you wake up you have my office number. Call my secretary. She’s at your disposal for anything you might need, including a lawyer to handle your father’s will, the sale of the house … anything. She will only send approved people your way. This is not the time to use strangers. I hope that you will heed my advice. Now try to get some sleep.”
She was still staring at me speechlessly when I left.
Chapter 15
Zola
Istared blankly at the door for a good few minutes after he left, then I rushed to the toilet and was sick as a dog. Alcohol and I were not good bedfellows. I cleaned my teeth and got into my father’s bed. Pulling the covers over my head, I shut my eyes and was asleep in minutes.
I slept well … more than I had in a while.
When I woke up the next morning, it was with a slight headache and a heavy grogginess that I richly deserved. I felt too disgusted to go back to sleep so I stumbled to the bathroom and stepped into the shower. A little while later my hair was washed, my body clean, and my head somewhat cleared.
The events of the previous day and evening had already begun to come back to me. I felt a strange sense of guilt as I thought about Dante. I recognized that my father’s death was ultimately not his fault and I should stop trying to blame or hate him, but if I did, then how on earth would I stop my body from responding sexually to him? Because my body had not got the memo that I was grieving for my father and it was noticing stuff about him. The way his hot eyes moved over my body, the way his sensual lips twisted into a mocking smile, the strong column of his throat, his manly wrist, his deeply tanned skin against my own …