Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
I can imagine Jack sitting back and laughing—even if he didn't get what he wanted and all his efforts were for nothing. He didn't get a single cent out of me and had no control over my businesses. All he did was nearly lose his son.
If only I were naïve enough to think he won't try again, however I'm too jaded to believe that. A man like Jack will not rest. He'll want revenge for Dominic's injuries and for the men he lost. He's like an arsonist who wants repayment for the damage he caused. None of this would've happened if it hadn't been for him setting things in motion.
Him, and Amanda.
The thought of her makes me rub my temples, leaning back in my chair with a weary sigh. After imagining so many times how simple it would be to end her life and rid me of her permanently, it seems I should be relieved. Even grateful. She'll never darken my doorstep again. There will be no more threats. No meetings with lawyers. No insults toward Bianca.
Instead, I have my daughter to worry about—the trauma of losing her deadbeat mother in such a violent way. Never getting closure. I can't pretend to understand why she cares about a woman who never cared about her, yet it's clear she does. That's all that matters.
Romero should be wrapping things up on that front as I sit here in my office, reviewing candidates to replace the men we've lost. According to him, these guys are the best of the best. Then again, Booker was supposed to be one of the best back when he first joined my crew, and where did that get me? He acted as Amanda's spy for months. Considering the nude photos she sent him, I don't have to ask what she used to bribe him.
There I was, thinking a generous salary would be enough to keep my men loyal to me. Turns out loyalty can't be bought.
When my cell buzzes, I expect it to be Romero calling to let me know he's on his way from the crematorium, where Amanda's remains were taken after being removed from the warehouse. It took the regular payment amount, but I am confident about the guys working there. This would hardly be the first time we've sent business their way—the kind the public can't and will never find out about.
Unfortunately, it's not Romero whose name flashes across the screen. I sit up a little straighter, my impending headache forgotten. “Sebastian. I've been meaning to call you.”
“I understand. You've had plenty on your plate, and I take it everything turned out as well as it could?”
“We're home safe and sound, and with the exception of a few sutures to my side, all is well.”
“I'm glad to hear it.” He clears his throat, then takes a prolonged pause while I wait to see what this is really about. It wouldn't be like him to call and see how I'm doing. No, we don't do that type of thing in my line of work. He wants something, or at least has something he feels he needs to share with me. I won't prod him. Let him be the one to make the moves.
“I'm in the neighborhood and wondered if you had a few minutes for a one-on-one. Understandable if you aren't. I know you're getting things back in order, so if it doesn't work, maybe we can choose another day?”
I close my eyes, clenching my hand into a fist. “Not at all. As I said, all is well. You're more than welcome to stop by.”
“Great. Ten minutes, work?”
“I'll be waiting.” What choice do I have? If I say no, it's as good as admitting any weakness, and the worst thing you can do is let someone know when you're weak, even if you really are. Besides, I want to keep this relationship warm and friendly. I might end up needing him somewhere down the line and can't afford to alienate an ally with so many loose ends.
I'm pulling on my suit jacket when Romero's footsteps echo down the hall. He stops short on rounding my doorway, sizing me up. “What did I miss?”
“Why do you assume you missed anything?”
“You're in 'meeting mode'.” I raise my brow, and he continues, “Call it an energy that fills the air.”
“Costello's on his way over. He called a minute ago. He wants to have a conversation in person. What it's about, I don't know.” I pretend not to notice the sour expression he gives me, instead nodding to the small, brown box he holds in one hand. “Tell me that isn't what I think it is.”
“Let me explain.”
“This had better be good, because I can't come up with many reasons why you would bring my ex-wife's ashes into this house. You were supposed to leave them there to be disposed of, or did you forget that part?” I crane my neck, peering behind him.