Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 111561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 558(@200wpm)___ 446(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Nino didn’t seem to mind that I hadn’t chosen to sit beside him. This marriage was a necessary evil for him. Means to an end.
“So you’re married to Fabiano?” I asked Leona.
She flushed and it made her freckles stand out even more. Her eyes darted to the blond man. “Oh … no … we aren’t married. We haven’t been together for very long.”
“And your family allows you to be with him before marriage?”
Leona let out a laugh. “I’m not Italian. I’m an outsider.”
My eyes widened in surprise. “Oh. I wasn’t sure because of your name. They allow that in Vegas?”
Leona pursed her lips. “I’m not sure it’s something that’s allowed, but Remo allowed it for Fabiano.”
I knew at once that Leona was as wary of the Camorra Capo as I was. Everyone except his brothers was probably wary of him.
“So you grew up in a normal family?” I hadn’t had contact with outsiders often, so I found their company exciting.
Leona grimaced. “Well, I wouldn’t call my family normal by average standards. My parents are addicts. I mean were … my mother still is.” She took a deep breath.
“What about your father?”
“Fabiano killed him.”
I froze, my eyes moving to her boyfriend. As if he could feel my gaze, his blue eyes settled on me before they moved over to Leona and warmed. Trying to suppress my first reaction, I asked, “Why are you with him if he killed your father?”
Leona turned to face me. A hint of guilt flickered across her face before it disappeared, and she gave a small shrug. “My father wasn’t a good man.”
“And Fabiano is a good man?”
“God no,” Leona said with a laugh. “These men over there … they aren’t good.” She nodded toward the Falcones and Fabiano.
I nodded. “But is he good to you?”
Leona smiled. “He is.” Her blue eyes searched my face. “I don’t know what happened between Nino and you last night, but he killed the man who hurt you, so I think he wants to be good to you.”
I regarded Nino. He leaned back in the seat, looking relaxed, his lips pulling into an almost smile. I wondered if it was something he had to force or if his facial muscles did it on their own when his body registered a certain level of satisfaction. He met my gaze. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to be good to me or if he even knew what he wanted with me at all. I averted my eyes because his scrutiny made me feel self-conscious, even if I was the one who had begun staring.
“He doesn’t feel emotions, right?”
Leona shrugged. “He doesn’t show emotion. I don’t know what’s going on in his head. To be honest, I don’t want to know. He and Remo…” she shook her head then caught herself “…sorry. Nino is your husband now.”
“No,” I said, waving her off. “I understand. I feel the same way.”
I wasn’t sure what to make of my husband yet. He wasn’t what I’d expected. I had expected cruelness, and I knew it was in his nature considering what he and Remo had done to Durant. Even if my uncle had deserved to die, from Giulia’s shaken state, I could only guess how bad it had been. Would his cruel side eventually emerge when he was around me?
The thought of lowering my guard and then being hit with cruelty I no longer expected was something I’d once endured, and I didn’t want to go through again.
The mansion was a sprawling white estate with several wings, each of which belonged to one of the Falcone brothers. Still, I would have preferred to have more distance between Remo and me. Savio didn’t scare me as much, and Adamo was still a kid, even if he was already taller than me. Remo, Savio, and Adamo headed to their respective parts of the house when we arrived, leaving me alone with Nino. I was still unsure how to act around him. I was still scared of him, but not as much as before.
“Come on, I’ll show you around the house,” he said, gripping my wrist again. I didn’t even flinch this time because I’d expected it. He did it frequently, and I wondered why. Was holding hands too personal? Was it about dominance when he held my wrist like that?
From the foyer we moved into a massive high-ceilinged open space with French windows taking up an entire wall. I supposed this had been the living room once. Now it looked like a massive game room with a pool table, pinball machine, and bar with shelves full of liquor. A boxing bag hung from the ceiling and two huge sofas sat in front of a television screen that took up most of the wall. But the strangest thing was the boxing ring on the right side of the room.