Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 151410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151410 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
“Not if your business jeopardizes the solidarity of the Scuderi-Falcone families.”
I rolled my eyes and regretted it immediately. “Don’t exaggerate.”
Massimo narrowed his eyes. “This is serious, Nevio. This could spiral out of control. Fabiano and Leona won’t take it kindly if they find out what you did.”
“I don’t remember a fucking thing,” I muttered. “I was stinking drunk.”
“I doubt that’s an excuse anyone’s going to listen to. Try to clear things up with Aurora.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” He knew everything. Maybe he had a fucking solution to this problem too.
“Don’t be an asshole,” Massimo said.
I pulled myself another coffee. “Aurora wants something I can’t give her. Maybe now she realizes how much of a messed-up asshole I am. Maybe it’s the solution to everything.”
Massimo didn’t comment, and I was glad he kept his opinion to himself for once.
I rarely had trouble falling asleep. My conscience didn’t plague me, and many of my nightly activities worked off enough energy to let me sleep like a fucking rock. Tonight, however, I found myself staring up at my ceiling. Only the sliver of moonlight peeking through the curtains allowed me to see schemes in my room. I tried to remember details from last night. Pressing my palms against my temples, I went over what I remembered. My conversation with Aurora where I told her to stay away from me and go home. That obviously hadn’t worked.
A new image barreled through the blackness. An image of long legs beside my head. Of golden blond strands on a gray pillowcase. Then another flash and blue eyes locked on mine. Fuck, the look in them. Had she looked at me that way? And I hadn’t even realized it was her. Or maybe I had, and the alcohol had only let the rotten part of me act. Another flash, still those blue eyes, but this time filled with tears and pain. My memory became black. That was probably when I’d passed out.
Remembering her eyes was the worst.
“How do you feel?” Carlotta asked when I entered the kitchen in the morning. We were alone. Diego had probably already left for some Camorra duty, for which I was infinitely glad. He would ask questions that I had no intention of answering.
Carlotta and I had been best friends all of our lives. I couldn’t imagine I’d ever feel I couldn’t face or share my feelings with her. This was probably a low in my life so far, so it was only fitting that she was by my side in the aftermath.
“I don’t know,” I said honestly as I trudged toward her. She was preparing scrambled eggs in a big pan. Enough for ten people, not just the two of us. She turned down the heat and put aside the spatula, then angled her body toward me, her expression compassionate. “I’m sorry this happened.”
I nodded because I was too. I should have left the party sooner and stayed away from Nevio. My belly plummeted just thinking of him. Heartache, embarrassment, and anger rushed through me. Last night had been the worst night of my life. I swallowed hard and wrapped my arms around my chest. The deep hollowness I felt there was worse than the burn between my legs.
The latter would probably remind me of my bad decisions for days to come every time I had to pee.
“Massimo won’t tell a living soul.” It was very fitting that she limited her statement in that regard because, in Massimo’s case, it wasn’t unlikely he shared information during an autopsy. The Unholy Trinitiy’s and especially his fascination with dead bodies and the morgue was infamous.
My cheeks still burned, thinking of how Massimo had found me.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but I was starting to feel sick again. Maybe because the room stank of my vomit, or because my vagina ached fiercely, or because I felt like the biggest idiot on this planet. Nevio still hadn’t stirred from where he was sprawled out beside me, breathing evenly, blissfully passed out. I wished I’d pass out too.
Though I really didn’t want to be found in my current situation. Our circle was a cesspool of gossip, and this piece of chatter would equal an atomic bomb.
The door opened, and Massimo appeared before I could push myself into a sitting position or figure out what was happening. I was glad I’d covered myself with my skirt, but the situation was still compromising, and Massimo was too intelligent.
His keen eyes took in the scene and probably figured out every little detail of my mortification.
Carlotta’s face framed in her dark curls peeked past Massimo’s broad frame. Her eyes grew wide, and she squeezed past Massimo and rushed into the room. Massimo closed the door, for which I was grateful. I didn’t need anyone else to see me like this.