Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 74035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74035 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 370(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
“No reaction,” I say out loud, shaking my head at him. “You don’t care if I touch her?” He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. I lift my second hand to her hair and gently drag it along the edge of the wig she wears. She sits still, eyeing me but not moving a muscle or blinking. I know shit about wigs, but it’s thankfully easy to take it off. Shoulder-length, honey-colored hair tumbles down.
She looks… younger.
Illegal.
And I fucking want this woman.
I swallow hard and toss the wig to the counter.
“Now that’s better,” I tell her, running my fingers through her tangled mane. “Good job, sweetheart.” Her eyes widen unexpectedly, as if I surprised her. Her pretty, heart-shaped mouth parts, and I don’t know if it’s my imagination, but she leans her head against my hand. I try again. “You did so good, didn’t you?”
She releases a stifled gasp. I’m not sure why.
Interesting.
If I don’t take control right here, right now, I’m gonna strip this woman and fuck her over that marble counter, job and onlooker and status be damned. I’ve hardly touched a woman since I got out of jail and didn’t realize just how hungry I’ve been. And there’s something about a woman like her that ticks every fucking box in my book.
She’s a Montavio.
My captive.
And I have a job to do.
I pull away from her as if burnt and face the man sitting next to her.
“Thought you two were together?”
He snorts. “You thought wrong.”
She flinches as if struck. Guess that was news to her. For some reason, his callous nature and her surprise infuriates me. I grab him by the front of his shirt and lift him, chair and all.
“Does she know that?” I ask in a deadly growl.
“She does now.” I drop him and he flinches. Good.
I want to beat his scrawny ass, but I have to stay focused.
“Which one of you tried to hurt Marialena Rossi? Which one of you was behind that attempted hit?”
Vivia gives a strangled cry. The guy in front of me doesn’t bat an eyelash, and he jerks his head at her. “Who do you think did? I don’t even know who Marialena fucking is.”
“Marialena?” Vivia whispers. “What?”
Looks like I’ve got some filling in to do.
I stand in front of them, cross my arms on my chest, and shake my head. “Let’s start at the beginning.” I want to watch every reaction, see what’s news to them and what isn’t. “My name’s Dario DeRocco. I’m a sworn brother of the Rossi family, which probably comes as no surprise to either of you. Head Capo for Romeo Rossi.”
No surprise. They knew that much.
“You two were caught by one of our detectives as the very same people who put a hit on the youngest Rossi sister, Marialena. She has a very perceptive bodyguard who’d lay down his life for her, who discovered the attempt on her life just in time to save her, but not without scaring the shit out of her and seriously pissing off her oldest brother Romeo.”
Vivia’s eyes fill with tears, and she shakes her head.
“I had no idea,” she whispers. “I didn’t know. You have to believe me. I’d never hurt one of my cousins. Never.”
She doesn’t look like someone who’s lying, but then again, they never do. I can’t let her pretty looks and pleading soften me.
“Then why no surprise when I apprehended you?”
She looks away and bites her lip. What the fuck is she hiding from me? Yeah, I thought so.
I jerk her chin so she looks back at me. She flinches at the look I give her.
“I thought—I thought you worked with Sergio.”
“I do.” Sergio, the eldest Montavio and Don of the Montavio mob, is one of our closest associates.
She slams her lips together and looks away, shaking her head.
I turn to him. “You. Tell me.”
“I have nothing to tell you,” he says, shaking his head. “It was all her idea. She was behind the whole thing.”
“What? No!” she screams, shaking her head. “He’s lying!”
I want to beat this man to within an inch of his life. Not only is he not willing to protect her, he’s willing to let her take the hit for what he’s done.
“I’m gonna beat the living shit out of you,” I tell him, advancing toward him. “You a fuckin’ pussy trying to put this on her? What kind of a fucking asshole lets someone else take the blame?” My eyes go blurry with rage as adrenaline pumps through my veins. I’ve got him by the shirt, lifting him straight off the floor when he begins to cry like the pussy he is and my phone rings again. Romeo.
Shit.
I drop him again, hard, raise my hand, and give him a solid backhand across his face. He screams like a little girl, and I curse under my breath while I answer the phone. I didn’t hit him hard enough.