Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 107265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“Obviously that changed,” I comment.
“Yes, well, I had to prove myself obedient. Once I did, he let out the reins a little bit. Once he was sure I would do anything he wanted and asked . . .” she trails off, not finishing the train of thought.
“Agreeing to marry my cousin being one of them.”
“Yes, that he sprung on me right before I met you. He was a tyrant—but not like you. One who didn’t believe I needed an education or a diploma, which is why I studied English lit in the end.”
“But you at least love to read?”
“I do, but since I know he would never have let me do anything else. I chose something I loved, even if it meant I’d never have a career with it.”
“Well, that is a luxury most don’t have. Most people go to school to learn something they hate because it makes them money.”
“True. I should be happy I was able to follow my passion. I loved college. I loved learning. And in the end, I will always have the memories and the knowledge.”
In front of me was the opportunity I needed. It was a perfect in to warm her up to me.
“If you could do anything, what would you do?”
“Why? It doesn’t matter.”
I lean forward and place my hand on hers. “It matters to me.”
As the words leave my mouth, I realize there is some truth to them. It’s not that I care necessarily, but I’m curious about her. I want to know all about her. Not just to use her but because something intrigues me, and I would be lying if I said otherwise.
The way she looks at me is almost unnerving; she studies me, trying to understand. With my hand still on hers, I lean forward, closer to her.
Sell the story.
Make her believe.
“I—” she stutters out. “I love to read, as you know. I've always wanted to do something in that field. Maybe be a literary agent or an editor. Opening a bookstore would be amazing too.” Her voice comes out whimsical as if she’s lost in a dream. “I’ve always wanted to find the next great book to get lost in.”
“Then do it.”
“You, you would let me work?”
“Believe it or not, Viviana, you are not a prisoner here. Right now, it might be hard for you to start a job, seeing as there are some complications.”
“Your cousin?”
“Yeah. But it shouldn’t be that long. After.”
It’s a lie. If she does what I think she will do, there is no working where I will put her.
“Can I start looking now . . .?” She sounds so hopeful. If I give in to her, it might help her believe more.
“I’ll consider it, depending on the threat, but you would have to take a bodyguard.”
“Okay.” She nods while smiling.
Her lips spread clear across her face.
I never have seen her smile like this before.
It’s truly the most beautiful smile I have ever seen. It’s the type of smile that could start wars.
It already has.
When it’s over, I escort her to her room. As she opens the door, she turns around and looks at me.
“Thank you for tonight.”
“It was my pleasure. If you’d like, we can start having dinner together every night that I’m here.”
“Are you not always here?”
“No. Sometimes, I go out.”
For a second, she looks like she might ask more, but instead, she lets her lip tip up.
“I’d like that,” she says.
“Good night, Viviana.”
“Good night, Matteo.”
After she steps into her room and closes the door, I head down the stairs. We have a shipment coming in tonight, and I need to get ready to oversee it.
Normally, I don’t.
But seeing as this is a new route and new drop location, I do.
I decide to have a drink in my office before we leave.
I’m sitting alone, scotch in hand, when Lorenzo walks in.
“How was dinner?” he asks, brow lifted.
“Good.”
The man still acts like we are in high school, expecting me to tell him about the cheerleader I banged under the bleachers.
“Anything else?” he asks.
I lift my brow. “Are we girls?”
“Well, no . . .”
“Sit.” I pat the chair.
Lorenzo obliges. I stand and grab a second glass. “Have a drink with me.”
His eyebrow lifts. “What are we drinking to?”
“Laying the groundwork.” And hopefully getting laid with the wife afterward. I am no fucking saint.
“With the missus?”
“Ding, ding, ding. Correct. I anticipate having her under control within two weeks.”
“And then what?” He eyes me curiously.
“Then the fun starts.”
“Do you think we should finalize the details now?”
“No. Not yet. Too many variables can change. But I think we should set her up. Give her small pieces of info to tell her dad, and when we know he trusts her, we strike.”
“Will you be okay killing her when all is said and done?”
“Of course.”
“Interesting.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” he responds, but I know he has more to say. The man knows me better than anyone. He knows the kill wouldn’t be easy on me, but I will do what I need to do, regardless of what he thinks.