Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 73655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
She's not been perfect. Who truly is? Still, Cristiano has given me more to think about, more to consider about who she is, why my father chose her, and what she wants from our marriage.
When Marco walks in, I sit back and watch him saunter confidently to the chair opposite the desk. "You father's sanctuary," he remarks as he settles in. He looks as comfortable as if he were in his own space. It doesn't at all look like the man is sitting in the same room his boss was murdered in. There's no regret, no guilt, and certainly no remorse in his eyes.
"And you're here to answer a few questions because I don't believe any of my Capos want me in this seat," I tell him without breaking my stare on the man before me. "I need to know who is loyal."
He snaps his gaze to mine. "You know I would lay down my life for you," Marco informs me easily, his face nothing but serene as he tells me this. Any tells of lying are out the window, because Marco is calm, and collected. But deep down, I wonder if that's something I need to be wary of and dig deeper into.
"My father needed that but didn't get it," I say, my voice calm, controlled, and deep down, just for a moment, I wish Luna was here. I'm not sure why she would aid me in my questioning, but I want her beside me.
"He was a man I spent my life looking up to," Marco tells me, causing me to look up into his earnest gaze. "I was a child when he stepped up to the leader role, to Boss." He leans forward, his elbows on his knees, and he matches my stare with one of his own.
"And you knew he was murdered, and yet, you had not reached out to me. You never once acknowledged that you were still behind us," I throw out, still unsure of what I'm dealing with. At first, I thought this would be easy, but the more I delve into the minds of these men, I realize there's so much more they’re holding back.
“Your father was an icon. He was the Boss," Marco reminds me of something I don’t need recapping. "And when someone of his caliber dies, we as Capos, we step aside to allow family to take over. We can’t just walk in here, as if we own the place, because this is now your domain."
"And that's what you believe?" I challenge, needing more than just his words.
Marco nods, his expression filled with pain. His eyes lock on mine and I read the heartbreak in them. "Salvatore was everything, he was like a father, and mentor to me." His words hit me right in the chest, and I pray Mario is listening, because right now, fucking emotions have taken a hold of me, and I blame Luna. She's opened this box and left me vulnerable. "He was the man I looked up to since I was a kid. He was the reason I took the oath."
"I understand," is all I can muster. This is harder than I anticipated. I thought just questioning these men would lead me to the bastard who's feeding Tommaso the information, but now I've learned that's not true.
When he leaves, I'm met with another of our Capos who offers me the same speech. I only have one more man to see and ask Mario for a moment to get my bearings. There has been too much said in the past few hours.
"Luna is here," Mario says before stepping aside. I glance up to find my fiancée at the threshold of the office. I didn't want to bring her in here because it was a sacred space. One her family tainted, but the moment she steps inside, it feels as if I can breathe again.
"My father taught me something when I was growing up," she informs as she strides up to the desk. For a split second, I want to hurt her, to make her cry as she learns about the room that she's in. I want to make her bleed. To see that pretty crimson on her porcelain thighs as I fuck her mercilessly.
But I don't.
I tip my head to the side, regarding her with interest. "And what is that?"
"To read people when they're lying," she informs me, and I realize there were multiple times over the past few weeks I'd lied to her. "I can tell from the moment someone walks into a room, to the moment he or she walks out, that they're not telling the truth."
"And you're informing me of this when I'm bringing in the last man in my questioning?" I challenge her. My face must be a picture of disdain and frustration.