Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 32346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 162(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Two minutes later, she comes back with my sugar-filled coffee. I hand her a twenty and tell her to keep the change, which she snatches from me. It’s a waste of tips because soon I’m going to give her everything. Normally, she adds her money back into the drawer because she wants to help the business. It kills me to see her working so hard, but she comes back to the table with my change and sets it down without a word. I want to say something, but my phone rings as soon as she walks away. I forgot to ask her about the damned wrap.
It’s my brother, who I’m supposed to be meeting with on the latest problems with another fucking thief, even though this one was a lot more skilled than Vincent. I send him to voicemail, which will piss him off, but I prefer to spend my hour watching her, uninterrupted. He calls again, so it must be important. Inwardly cursing him out, I answer. “Hello, Dom.”
“You’re lucky you’re my brother,” he snarls into the phone. Yes, we’re all supposed to answer his calls and do his bidding without giving a shit about everything else, but I’m on edge and he can’t even fathom it.
I snarl while stealing another look at my woman. “Right now, I don’t feel so damn lucky to be related to you. What’s going on?”
“Well, you’re fucking mooning over the damn owner of the café.”
“Did Aria tell you that?”
“I can see you.” I turn to the window, and Dom’s standing outside. Shit. “Come talk to me.”
I pack up my shit and walk out, dropping my change into the tip cup on the front counter without looking at my infatuation. I’m sure she’s probably shooting daggers into my back, but I don’t care.
As soon as I step outside, Luigi opens the back door for us to enter Dom’s SUV. “You and I need to talk.”
“What about?” If he wasn’t my brother, I’d be a little unnerved at the moment because while we may look alike, he exudes the power that was bred into his DNA.
I know it’s about the problems for this place and the incident with the runner I gave him the day before. “After yesterday’s manic behavior, my wife informed me you were here watching the chick that works behind the register instead of doing what I sent you here to do.”
“I wasn’t watching her.”
“Bullshit. I fucking saw you. My wife actually told me last night because she thought you were planning on kidnapping her, and we have that problem already with Nero and his future wife.”
“What? Are you serious?” Nero’s pretty fucking crazy, so I suppose it’s not too far-fetched to see my cousin go to those extremes, but I wouldn’t have expected him to fall too. We’re all going down that slippery hill and there’s no returning.
“Very.”
“So is that why you’re here?”
“Yes and no. Obviously you’re here for her, but I know damn well you were supposed to give me a rundown on the expected financials of this place. It’s been four days now, and so far all I see is you ogling that girl without any feedback for me.” She’s young, but I’m not as old as my brother.
“She’s probably as old as Aria,” I say, reminding him that his wife is young. Ivy’s father took out a loan from Domani six months ago, and not once has he received a full payment. Needless to say, that can’t continue, so this is going to fuck up any chance I have with Ivy unless I use it to my advantage, and I think I have a plan.
“Not quite. She’s nineteen, and she’s a part owner of this company. Her father is sending her into the poor house. He used her to get a loan besides the one to us. When my men came to collect, he wanted to toss me another deal. I didn’t elaborate at the time because even speaking of it feels like a betrayal to my queen that I can’t stand for—offering his daughter to knock off some of the debt, but you know I wouldn’t dare consider something vile like that.” And my plan for Vincent goes out the window because all I want is his death.
“I’ll kill him myself,” I snarl, reaching for the door handle. If he’s back there, hiding, I’ll blow his brains out. Dom grabs my shoulder and yanks me back.
“Hold the fuck up.” All I’m seeing is red. The thought of him offering my woman to my brother, my married brother, sends me into a rage. My fists clench on my thighs at visions of her falling for my brother.
I know it’s not Dom’s fault that he received the offer. Many fucks who are shady don’t have an ounce of moral fiber when it comes to women and children, but Dom most certainly does.