Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83776 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Dad paces away. His hands are clasped behind his back. I try not to show how angry I am right now, because he doesn’t react well to big emotions during crisis situations, but I’m simmering with rage. This was supposed to be my mission, my contribution to the burgeoning war effort—marrying Stefania, building trust and ties to the Rossi Famiglia, and securing guns was going to help win this conflict before it escalated.
Now, the guns are missing, our alliance is on shaky footing, and I don’t know what’s going to happen.
“How sure are you that the Rossis give a damn about your wife?” He looks back at me, face completely serious.
The question pisses me off. Not because the idea is absurd—but because the thought that Stefania’s family might be so cruel as to marry her off to a bunch of dangerous men knowing full well they planned a violent betrayal is too much to bear.
“She’s their youngest sister. Would you do something like that to Laura?”
He grunts and begins pacing again. I know what his answer is without him having to say it. None of us would ever hurt a member of our family, not for any reason, and I have to assume the Rossis are the same.
“Get creative with the driver.” Father’s stare is level and cold. “I don’t care if it pisses off our new allies. I will personally speak with Renzo and handle any issues. Make sure the driver isn’t lying.”
“And if he’s not?” I ask, already preparing myself for a brutal, bloody conversation with a man who’s probably innocent. Not that I mind. I feel nothing for the driver.
“We take the guns we currently have and we make sure Santoro never steps out of line again.”
Chapter 23
Stefania
I wake up without Davide and wonder if he’s some kind of fever dream. It’s like he keeps showing up out of nowhere, throwing down a bunch of hot and body-melting sex, then disappearing in the morning.
I’m frustrated. I haven’t heard anything about a job, and I’m starting to get a little stir-crazy sitting around the house with nothing to do. I can’t text my husband because he’s always busy and I don’t want to bother him with something trivial like, you know, my feelings, and so I end up resenting him and feeling annoyed with myself, while also wishing he were here right now to kiss me, fuck me, and call me all sorts of filthy names.
Which is a thing I like now, apparently.
I have a leisurely morning before I get dressed and step outside. I don’t have a plan until I hit the sidewalk, look around, spot a few of the guards that keep the oasis safe, and start walking to the far end where the fake roadwork keeps cars away. It’s a nice day; I stroll along, feeling good, at least until I notice someone hurrying after me.
“Mrs. Bianco, please hold on a second,” he says as he reaches my side, breathing hard.
I glance over at the young man. I’d guess he’s nineteen, maybe twenty, with a weak mustache, baggy jeans, and an oversized sweatshirt probably meant to hide the gun he’s got tucked into a holder at his waistband, except he keeps adjusting himself and flashed the gun at me like three times already.
“My name’s Stefania,” I tell him and keep on walking, not slowing down. “I haven’t seen you around before.”
“I’m Matty,” he says and keeps pace with me. “Please, ma’am, I mean, Mrs., uh, I mean—”
“Stefania,” I say again. “Are you new? I’m looking for a decent coffee shop. Anyone nearby?”
“You can’t leave the family grounds,” Matty says, sounding genuinely horrified. I should feel bad for him since he’s clearly just some low-level soldier stuck on minor guard duty, but I’m too annoyed with my situation to take pity and turn around.
“Says who?” I ask, doing my best to sound sweet, but picking up the pace.
“Your husband. He made it very clear. I’m not to let you out of the oasis for any reason.”
“How come it’s called the oasis?” I ask, even though I know full well. I just want to keep him talking.
“Well, ma’am, I suppose it’s because it’s the only safe place in the whole city for you and your family, which is exactly why you can’t leave.”
I’m about twenty feet from the roadwork signs, twenty feet from freedom, twenty feet from the city I supposedly live in but haven’t gotten to see much of yet. Sure, I’ve been driven around, I’ve gone to high-end shops with Elena and Freddie, but I haven’t gone for a stinking walk since I married Davide, and I miss it. I always liked walking around Philly.
“Tell you what, Matty. I’m going to go ahead and ignore everything you’re saying, and when my husband finds out about it, I’ll make sure he understands that there was nothing you could do short of grabbing me and hauling me back. Which he would never, ever want you to do, since my husband is a jealous man and he’d hate it if someone touched me.”