Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125465 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 502(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
“Make a wish,” Quinton exclaims, his expression grim.
He expects me to hold it together like him, but I can’t. Won’t.
I stare at the candle, the flame staring back at me. I have only one wish, and it’ll never come true. I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste blood.
He’s never coming back. I blow the candles out and force a smile. The beautiful cake is cut, and everyone digs in.
I take a couple of bites, the luscious buttercream frosting makes me salivate, and I’m tempted to eat more, but my churning stomach makes me halt. My father and Quinton disappear into my father’s office.
I know they’re discussing business. My brother will soon take over the Rossi empire, and technically, I have no right to be a part of the business, not that I want to, either.
Women, though respected and treated well, aren’t to fiddle in the mafia dealings of the family. We’re to be seen and not heard, but I’ve never been the type to stay quiet. I’m a Rossi, after all.
I shove from the table and start toward the office.
“Sweetheart, they’re discussing business.” My mother’s sing-song voice fills my ears, but I ignore it.
Their voices are hushed when I reach the door, which is cracked open. I’m tempted to barge in but instead knock.
“Come in.” My father’s voice is businesslike, and he doesn’t bother asking who it is, almost as if he suspected it would be me.
I shove the door open and walk inside. Neither he nor Q looks all that surprised by my appearance, confirming my thoughts.
“I don’t like secrets.” I cross my arms over my chest and glare at my brother, who wears an expression of guilt. I know whatever they’re discussing has to do with Ren, and I already told Q if it pertains to him in any way, I want to know.
He was my friend too.
“Sit down,” my father orders, and I take the seat beside my brother without so much as a breath. Sitting back in his chair, he stares at me, his expression blank. “I know you don’t want to believe what’s been said about Ren. No one does. Not his parents or sister, and even your mother and I are at a loss, being how close he was to all of us.”
I’ve fought at length with Quinton about Ren. Even with all the evidence in front of me, I can’t mentally make myself believe he was some evil man intent on killing any of us. That wasn’t Ren.
“I’m going to assume you have more evidence?”
Quinton nods. “We tracked his phone further and discovered he was leaving Corium almost nightly. However, we don’t know where he was going. The signal must have been lost, or he was out of radius.”
I shrug. “So that doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he felt trapped there. I don’t know. We won’t know his reasoning until we can ask him.”
My father rubs at his temples. He knew I always tried to see the good in others, so I wasn’t sure why he was so intent on convincing me otherwise.
“We found something else. A notebook.” My father sighs. “We don’t know what the hell it’s for. The contents aren’t really clear, but it’s another clue that he was doing something.”
My heart rate picks up. “What were the contents?”
“Codes,” my brother answers.
“Codes? What kind of codes?” I can’t wrap my head around that. Why would he need codes? What were they for?
“That’s where the trail ends.” Frustration fills the air. “The codes don’t make any sense or correlate to anything we can understand. All we know is that they were of importance to him since he wrote them down. Aside from that, they’re just a bunch of letters scribbled on paper, but that doesn’t mean he’s innocent. He was doing something, but we don’t know yet what that something was.”
Is it bad that a part of me is joyful that they haven’t found any hard-core evidence of wrongdoing? I’m not sure I’d believe anything even if I saw it. In my eyes, Ren isn’t whatever picture of him they are painting.
The clock behind my father’s head shows nine p.m. There is still plenty of time to spend hanging out with my family, but I am pooped. Pretending was harder than I thought.
“I think I’m going to go lie down,” I announce.
My brother raises his brow at me, but I ignore his stare.
Dad frowns at me. “Are you sure? I know this news isn’t something you wanted to hear, especially on your birthday. It is why we tried to keep it under wraps, but it doesn’t have to mean the end of your evening. It doesn’t have to ruin anything.”
“I’m not fragile, Dad. What you just told me didn’t ruin my night.” I break the tension. “I’m just tired and really think I should get to bed early. Plus, my stomach isn’t feeling all that well.”