The Woman from the Past (Grassi Family #4) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Crime, Dark, Insta-Love, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Grassi Family Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
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And I couldn’t entertain a possibility of that.

It simply had to go right.

Case closed.

I was going to choose to focus on positivity. And not why there was a strange pit in my stomach that seemed to get larger and larger with each passing hour.

It was probably as silly as knowing Massimo was out of town for a few hours. It was absurd, of course. I’d been alone in this life of mine for much longer than I’d had Massimo in it. But I couldn’t seem to help feeling weird about it.

Maybe it was just the disruption in my schedule.

Saturday was supposed to be a long, boring day at home alone in my apartment. But that had gotten interrupted early in the morning by a knock at my door and Lucas telling me that Rizzo wanted me at the deli, that Carmine wasn’t feeling well, and she needed help with the afternoon rush.

I should have been happy about it, glad for the distraction, but that pit in my stomach just kept getting bigger and bigger as I got myself ready and followed my brother out to the car.

“Does Colin know?” I asked.

“Where do you think the order came from?” Lucas asked, giving me a strange look.

“Right,” I said, shaking my head. “Sorry. I’m feeling a little off today,” I admitted. “I didn’t sleep well last night.”

“It sounds like it will be a short shift. They close by five on Saturdays.”

That was true.

It would go fast if we were busy, too. Then I would get home, have dinner, and finally get to hear from Massimo again, which would reassure me that everything was going to be alright.

From there, I just had to get through Sunday.

Then it would all be over.

Life could start again.

“Shit. That’s a long-ass line,” Lucas said as we got close to the deli.

“Rizzo is probably losing her mind,” I said. “I better go,” I said as the car idled, waiting for someone to park.

With that, the next several hours were a complete blur. If I thought I’d dealt with a rush before, I’d been sadly mistaken. The weekend crowd was never-ending and impatient, putting an already moody Rizzo in a worse and worse mood as the hours went by.

Which set my nerves on edge, making me feel overheated and frazzled, my mind not able to focus on anything but sandwich ingredients and side work that needed to be done.

“Go. Just go,” Rizzo hissed when I brought the wrong thing out from the back, making her snatch it out of my hands and start to charge back from the kitchen.

“My ride—“ I started.

“Just wait out front. I’ll call my son,” she growled before disappearing.

Not really wanting any more of her wrath, and needing some air that didn’t reek of deli meat, onions, or sauces, I washed my hands and moved outside, taking a slow, deep breath, and trying to pull myself together.

I didn’t want Colin suspecting anything, even though I logically knew there was no way he could guess that I was working behind his back with the mafia.

I was turning to go to Traveler’s place to grab a quick coffee before my ride got there.

And that was when it happened.

A hand slapped over my mouth.

An arm went around my waist.

And I was yanked off of my feet, turned, and shoved into the trunk of a car before I could even process the fear as it exploded through my system.

By the time my actual fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, it was too late.

I was already in the trunk, and the car was peeling away from the curb.

A scream bubbled up in my throat before I tamped it down.

What good would screaming do?

No one would do anything or say anything. Not in this neighborhood. They were too used to terrible things happening. They knew to look the other way and fight off that innate urge to do the right thing.

Screaming wouldn’t help.

Neither would trying to stick my hand or foot out of the taillight for the same reason.

Unless we drove around for long enough, then I might be able to get the attention of someone in a different area.

Better to save my energy. For when the trunk opened.

Then maybe I could, I don’t know, hit someone and try to make a run for it.

I wasn’t tied up.

I had that going for me.

Who would have taken me? The guys who left the note? The Calgary Family?

But why?

Yes, they’d made it clear they wanted to speak to me. It kind of came off as an “or else” thing. But they hadn’t exactly told me how we would go about having a meeting. So, doing the whole “or else” thing was kind of unfair.

Unless this was how they were going to choose to have the meeting. In which case, it was really risky to just grab me off of the street.



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