Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
My angel is sleeping peacefully.
What must that feel like?
She’s curled up on her side, facing away from me. Her head is on my arm and my other arm is around her, tucked up in between her breasts. I couldn’t be any closer.
But it’s never close enough.
Every time I close my eyes, I see the zipper of the body bag in the morgue slowly sliding down.
The pale blue face with the name Lucky Lombardi carved into it.
Her lifeless body kept in the freezer, as if she was insignificant—as if she didn’t matter.
I close my eyes, the horror too real to handle.
I inhale as I try to calm myself, to chase away this fear, the sheer terror that my Olivia is on his radar.
Our baby.
I get a vision of Olivia’s body floating in sea water, her pale blue face with the same sadistic carvings there, and her blonde hair floating on the surface.
She’s dead.
I scrunch my eyes shut to try and block it out.
Why do I keep seeing it? Why do I keep seeing visions of my Olivia in the sea? Is it just a product of my fear or a premonition? Either way, the vision is haunting me.
I’ve never been scared of the consequences of who I am. Not until now.
What if he gets to her? What if he tortures her?
What if she dies?
I roll onto my back and stare up at the ceiling.
We will kill Lucky Lombardi. The war has only just begun. Ten of his men have already lost their lives today, but until I see Lombardi’s lifeless body with my own eyes, I won’t relax.
I need a plan—something to keep Olivia safe.
I glance over at the clock and see that it’s 2:00 a.m. It will be 8:00 p.m. in New York. I slowly slide out of bed, throw on some boxer shorts, and walk downstairs to my office.
I scroll through my phone until I get to the name I’m searching for.
Gabriel Ferrara
My cousin.
Our grandfathers were brothers. As the second in line, his grandfather Emilio wasn’t committed to Italy. His passion was very different. He moved to New York City and opened Ferrara Media, which is now one of the most successful media empires in the world. Gabriel is the CEO.
We have the same blood, yet the life he lives is so very different to mine. We grew up on opposite sides of the world—my family in Italy and his family in New York—but we understand each other. A strange comradery has built between us over recent years.
We have both struggled with being Ferraras. Both struggled being the CEO of a family business we didn’t choose of our own accord.
Different ends of the spectrum.
Different businesses that are worlds apart.
The same goddamn battles.
Nobody gets it like we do.
We live with it every day. Like an insidious monster that sits on our shoulder, the pressures of expectation are heavy burdens to bear.
I dial his number and listen as it rings.
“Enrico.” His voice is filled with happiness. “Tell me someone died.”
I chuckle. We always say that we only get to see each other at funerals. “Not today. Hello, my friend.”
“It’s good to hear your voice. How are you?”
“Good. Engaged to be married.” I smile at the sound of those three words. Who knew it would ever feel so good to say out loud?
“What?” He gasps. “Engaged? Poor woman. Who is she?”
I laugh. “Her name is Olivia Reynolds, and she’s the most beautiful woman on the planet. Listen, I need a favor.”
“Name it.”
I exhale heavily. “I have some things going down here. A threat has been made on Olivia. A madman has threatened her life if I don’t do as he asks. He knows where she works. He knows everything about her. We are handling it, but not as fast as I would like.”
“Okay.” He listens.
“If I need to, can I send Olivia to you in the states? I may have to get her out of Italy in a hurry, but I need somewhere that I know she will be well guarded.”
“Of course. Send her. You know I have impeccable security.”
“Thank you.” I smile sadly. “How are you?”
“All right.” He pauses. “I have a lot to tell you when we catch up next.”
“And your family?”
“Are all well. Yours?”
“Good, everything is great, except for this madman murdering my working girls.”
“Jesus, Enrico.”
“I know.” I sigh. “Look, I’ll let you know if I’m sending her. Maybe this week for a few days.”
“I will guard her with my life, Enrico. You have my word.”
“Thank you.” I close my eyes. We both linger on the line, not wanting to hang up the call.
“Are you really all right?” he finally asks.
“As long as Olivia’s safe, I will be fine.”
“Take the threat out.”
“I will. He’s gone into hiding.” I get a vision of the name carved into her face, and contempt fills my every pore. “Once I find him, there’ll be hell to pay.”