Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22371 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
He didn’t even want to think of his wife being alone.
“So, that’s why I choose not to fight.”
“Whatever happened to him?” Massimo asked. “Also, what was his name again?”
Elsie smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “So you can go and teach him a lesson?”
“Some people need to be taught a lot of lessons.”
“There’s no point. He died not long after he got out of the system. A convenience store robbery. He wasn’t expecting the owner to have a gun, or something. I’m not sure.”
“Shit,” he said.
She shrugged. “I didn’t cry. It wasn’t the first time people died from the system.”
And once again he realized just how different they were. Elsie had witnessed so much, and he had a feeling she’d known of people, even young kids, that had killed themselves.
Death was a big part of his world. They killed traitors and people who dared step out of line. He was one of the youngest men to have made it within the mafia. He’d killed when he was young, and he did it to protect Romero.
Their dad had told him to take Romero out to the local park. He’d said it was time the boys got out and had some fun. The truth was, his dad needed the house to do some bad shit—kill some people—and he didn’t have anyone to take care of his sons. Sending them out to the local park was the only solution. It was a freezing cold day, and there were no kids, because no one was stupid enough to send their kids out in that weather. At least they had been wrapped up warm before they left the house. Anyway, Romero had decided to take the opportunity to play.
He’d not been interested in playing himself. He’d wanted to know what his father was up to. Romero was a guy who took life as it came, and while Massimo had been planning to head back to the house, to sneak up on his father and find out what he was doing, someone had snuck up on them.
The bastard had grabbed hold of Romero and attempted to press a hand over his mouth. The man had been large, but Massimo had seen the insignia on his neck. He’d been part of the Bratva. The enemy of his father and the Italian mafia.
Massimo had known what his father was, and he’d started to pay attention to the conversations his parents were having, or at least the ones his father was having with the men that came to visit. This man was the enemy.
When his father had sent him away, Massimo never went unarmed. He’d taken a gun from his father’s stash. For many years, he’d been practicing to shoot. His father trained him early, and it started with some dirt cans. Massimo knew if he didn’t make that shot, Romero would be gone, and the only life he’d have would be in a box.
The Bratva killed. He couldn’t allow anyone to take his brother. Not because his father would be pissed, but because he loved his brother. They were a team, and they had each other’s back.
The man didn’t take him seriously, but Massimo got the last laugh, because he fired the gun. It hit the man between the eyes, and Romero was able to break free before he was under the weight of the dead man.
Massimo recalled not caring. He’d killed a man, but he didn’t care. It was either him or his brother, and there had been no choice. Massimo had stayed with the body and sent Romero to tell his father. He’d been hailed a hero, and from that point on, his father had increased his training. Even at a young age, his father had known his son would win the respect of the mafia.
For many years, before he died, his father had said he had a gift—a gift of killing.
Staring at Elsie, he knew there was one person in this world he couldn’t kill, nor did he want to. His wife.
Chapter Four
Elsie slowly came out of sleep, and she was aware of the man beside her. She didn’t want to move an inch, because the last few days he’d been awake even before her. She couldn’t make out if he was snoring or not.
That first night he’d brought her to this cabin, he refused to sleep anywhere else. As Massimo liked to remind her, they were married, and he was not going to sleep anywhere else but by his wife’s side.
She tried to complain, tried to tell him there was no way she was sleeping with him. There had been no sex. She’d tried to budge him out of the way, which didn’t work. Massimo was a brick wall of thick muscle, and there was no moving him, no matter how hard she tried.