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)
“No!” I snap. “We’re not drug dealers anymore. We are better than that. That time is over.” We keep having this same argument. “How many fucking times do I have to tell you? No. More. Drugs.”
“If we let him take that, he will take the rest.” Sergio shakes his head. “The more blow he sells, the more power he gets. How long will it be before he infiltrates our other areas?” Lorenzo snaps. “This isn’t about the drugs, Enrico, it’s about the power that it gives whoever has it.”
“We have reputable businesses now. We do not need that side of the business. Stop thinking with fear. I will not be a lowlife drug dealer. That time is over for Ferrara. We are smarter now.”
“What about the girls? They’re in Sicily with a fucking madman who’s trying to take over our turf. Are you just going to let him?”
I stand and walk over to the window, and I look out at the city below. “Beef up security. Every girl is to be protected and I want to know everything there is to know about this Lucky Lombardi.”
“Yes, sir.” They both stand and leave the room. I sip my scotch as anger begins to seep into my bloodstream.
Nobody hits a Ferrara woman and gets away with it.
Nobody.
I sit in my car and stare across the street as she walks down the pavement.
I have a new pastime.
Stalking Olivia Reynolds.
Like a drug that I can’t have, I find myself thinking about her night and day.
Day and night.
I’m furious with Sophia, as if this is all somehow her fault. I can’t even talk to her at the moment. She doesn’t have what I need.
My drug has blonde hair, blue eyes, and the morals of a saint.
My drug made me feel worthy of her affection.
My drug is gone.
I watch on as she sits down onto a park bench and takes out her phone to scroll through it. She does this sometimes, as if not wanting to go back to her hotel.
My phone vibrates on the seat beside me, and I look over at the screen and frown.
Olivia Reynolds
It’s her, I scramble to answer it. “Hello, Olivia.”
“Hi,” she says softly. I smile as I watch her across the road. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Are you?”
“It’s so good to hear your voice,” I whisper before I turn my mouth to brain filter on. I scrunch my eyes shut… stop it.
She pauses for a moment. “Can we meet up for a coffee sometime?
My heart flips. “Of course.” I smile, she wants to see me. “When. Now?” I offer.
“No, I’m at work now,” she lies.
“I see.” I run my finger along the side of the steering wheel as I watch her. “Tonight?” I ask.
“No. In the daytime is better.”
I clench my jaw, knowing that means it’s platonic. She feels safer in the day. “Okay, tomorrow?”
“Yes. Two o’clock?”
“The café near your hotel?”
“Yes. See you then.” She hangs up, and I watch her stare at her phone for a moment before she stuffs it in her bag and begins to walk away.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, bella. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I whisper with a smile.
She wants to see me. There’s hope.
I sit in the café and glance at my watch. It’s 2:10 p.m.
Where is she?
I’ve been antsy all day. What if she doesn’t come?
I sip my coffee, while her coffee sits on the table opposite me, going cold. I got here early. I couldn’t wait any longer.
She breezes in and gives me a little wave as she approaches the table. I smile like a puppy as I scramble to my feet.
“Hello.”
“Hi,” she replies as I kiss her cheek.
She’s wearing a white linen shirt and navy capri pants. Her blonde hair is in a low ponytail, and she is wearing minimal makeup.
Natural perfection.
She sits down opposite me.
“I ordered you a coffee but it’s probably cold. I’ll order you another.”
“It’s fine.”
I stare at her, lost for words. What do you say to someone you’ve been following around all week? “How are you?” I ask.
“Good.” She smiles. “Getting there. How are you?”
My face falls. I hate that she’s fine. Am I alone in this? “I’m okay.” I fake a smile. “You wanted to see me?” I ask.
“Yes, I did.” She pauses and sips her coffee. “I have a few questions that I need answered.”
“Okay.” She wants to keep seeing me. She’s going to agree to it. “Anything, ask me anything.”
Her eyes hold mine, as if she’s steeling herself to speak. “Why do you think that your heritage depends on who you marry?”
I frown. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you… you said that…” She stops herself. “I know these seem like stupid questions to you, but I didn’t ask you them the other day and they are eating away at me.”
“I’m the head of my family now, and with that comes responsibilities. It’s in my hands to ensure that my family continues on as it has for centuries.”