Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Mattia closes the door behind him. "She doesn't belong there," he says, strolling across the office toward me. "Her things are too new, too nice. High end. He's trying to hide her where no one would think to look."
Gang territory is certainly the place to do it. We don't fuck around in the area I've given to them. In exchange, they keep their little wars out of my territory. The gang leaders may chafe under my rule, but they aren't foolish enough to try to challenge me. If they were, I wouldn't have made it out of LK territory without a confrontation today.
Instead, they let me walk in and take her without objection. They're too busy with their own beefs to even think about trying to take me on. Even if they did, they wouldn't survive. They're children, trying to play with giants. We perfected the game long ago and they know it.
"Diego grew up in our territory," I muse, sliding the brandy decanter across the desk toward Mattia. "She didn't."
"Diego moved out of our territory when Alvise retired," Mattia says, pouring himself a finger of brandy. "Could have met her then. You know Alvise had a thing for bringing home strays."
My brows pull together at the thought of Amalia as a stray. I don’t like it, the possibility of her growing up with no family, no home. Even a place like this and a father like mine is better than a life like that, especially for an innocent little girl. If Alvise did take her in, he did her a favor.
"A better question is why has Diego been hiding her for so long?" Mattia points his glass at me and then quickly swallows the amber liquid. "Because he's been with us for years, but none of us knew about this girl until Luca started digging."
"Either he had a plan all along or he didn't want us finding out about her," I agree, already having worked that out for myself. How long has he been hiding her in gang territory, moving her from place to place to keep her from being found?
"Or both."
"Figlio di puttana," I mutter, not sure which it is. Not sure what he's out to accomplish here or why. Was he simply worried about this exact outcome, or are we missing something? I don't know. And not knowing is pissing me off.
Being in the dark isn't a feeling I'm used to. I'm always two steps ahead, planning for moves my enemies haven't even thought about making yet. Diego's betrayal was something I didn't see coming. He has no motive, nothing to win here. At least not that we can see. It makes no fucking sense. He loses just as much as everyone else in this scenario.
A war between us and the Genovese family paints a target on his back too. He's our lawyer, for fuck's sake. He'll be one of the first on our payroll they try to squeeze. If he doesn't flip, they'll clip him. Either way, he ends up with a bullet between his eyes.
"Fuck," Mattia growls, dropping his glass on the desk abruptly. He yanks his earpiece from his ear and taps his watch. "Say that again."
"Uh, you might want to get up here," Coda says through the speaker on Mattia's watch. "The boss told us not to touch the girl, but she's currently escaping over the balcony."
Why am I not surprised? Christ, she's going to make me crazy before she gives an inch. And I'm going to let her do it. But not by putting herself in danger.
"How, exactly, is she escaping over the balcony?" I ask.
"Uh, boss," Coda says, clearly reluctant to be the bearer of bad news. "She used your clothes to make a rope and she's using it to climb down, sir."
"Jesus Christ." I jump to my feet, already headed for the door.
"I'll take upstairs," Mattia says, hot on my heels.
We split at the stairs. I jog out the front door, my heart in my throat. If she falls… My stomach churns at the thought. If she falls, it'll be my fault for locking her in and leaving her there. I've known her for a matter of hours, and I already know she isn't the type to cool her heels and wait to be summoned. Left to her own devices, she'll set this place on fire and then smile while it burns to ash around me.
A group of my men are gathered on the back lawn, milling restlessly beneath my balcony. A rope made from thousand-dollar leather belts and my pants dangles five feet from the ground, the legs tied together to reinforce them.
My heart stops when I see Amalia dangling in midair, nothing but the makeshift rope holding her aloft. She's already closer to the ground than the balcony, but still far too high up for comfort. Even from this angle, I can tell she's pale and trembling, gripping her makeshift rope with both hands.