Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
When I pull up outside the club, she sighs. “Memories, memories…”
I park. “I wish I could say you didn’t have to do this, Arria. But it shouldn’t last long. But I need to warn you, Enzo will rub it in. He won’t make it easy. He’ll want you to snap. Push you to the limit and make you hang there.”
“I’m doing it for my friend,” she says. “Let’s go.”
We climb from the car as a light snow falls. The temptation to put my arm over her shoulder is ridiculously urgent. It’s like a siren going off in my head. It’s fucked beyond belief. I stuff my hands in my coat pockets and walk next to her. Even now, in the freshness of the outside air, I’m sure I can smell her, her shampoo, just her. I want to touch her so badly.
In the club, we go to the back office. Enzo’s men watch us as we walk across the floor. I silently pray for none of them to call me by my nicknames or reference my past life as a mobster. Arria’s parents want her kept in the dark about this life. That’s my excuse. It couldn’t be because I don’t want Arria to judge me, right?
Enzo is waiting for us. He seems sober. I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing. He tosses a dart at the dartboard, hits a bullseye, then throws another and gets close. He’s had a fresh haircut, and his eyes no longer have that wild look. Instead, they’re cold, calculating.
Finally, he turns. “Nico, Arriana, so nice of you to join me.”
“Hello, Mr. Caruso,” I say.
Enzo looks expectantly at Arria. She clenches her jaw. For a second, I think she’ll let her natural, beautiful, fiery nature win. But then she says, “Thanks for agreeing to meet with me, Mr. Caruso.”
Enzo grins. “Such a polite young lady.”
Old instincts rise to the surface when he strolls across the room. He’s still got a dart in his hand. In the lamplight, it gleams threateningly. What am I going to do if he hurts her? I can’t just stand here. I wouldn’t be able to let it happen if it was just anyone. But Arria? My niece? The only woman who’s ever made me want her, fantasize about her, even if I can never acknowledge it?
“So, Arriana, is there something you wish to say?” He transfers the dart from one hand to the other as he looms over her.
My hands clench into fists. I remember what it was like to use these hands for bloody purposes, to beat Enzo’s father’s men almost easily, and to make it look more difficult to save their pride. The familiarity of both conventional and improvised weapons comes back to me. I feel like a caged lion about to watch his lioness undergo some terrible suffering, and I’m ready to break out of the cage.
Arria hesitates. She can sense the atmosphere, too. Her voice has an edge of terror when she speaks. “I’m sorry, Mr. Caruso,” she murmurs.
“Pardon?” Enzo snaps. “Speak up, chubby.”
Oh. Dammit. Don’t say that, Enzo. Please don’t call her that. Making fun of her figure, you sick fruck. She’s not chubby. She’s curvy, with perfect wide hips made for gabbing and manhandling. A figure that makes her uncle want to bury his hands hungrily in her gorgeous body.
Arria doesn’t look offended or hurt. She looks pissed. “I said I’m sorry.” She hisses the words at him.
“What’s this attitude I sense from you, hmm?” Enzo retorts.
“I’m telling you the truth. I’m very sorry for what happened.”
“For what happened… or for what you did?”
“For what I did,” Arria says pointedly. “It was disrespectful to behave like that in your club. It was wrong of me to get physical with you. I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m extremely sorry, Mr. Caruso.”
Enzo pauses for a long moment. I keep hearing the word chubby on repeat in my head. It’s a childish insult. Arria is a confident young woman. I’m sure she can tolerate it. But can I?
Finally, Enzo looks at me. “You’ve trained her well, Nightmare.”
The prick. Using my nickname. Arria gives me a look.
“Really,” Enzo goes on. “She’s very different from the last time we met. It’s like you’ve neutered her, honestly. It’s impressive. You should be proud.”
“This isn’t me, Mr. Caruso. My client wants to resolve this peacefully. And she feels genuine remorse.”
“Is that right, Arria? Do you feel genuine remorse?”
Arria clears her throat. I know this is difficult for her. I know she’s probably close to snapping and letting her true nature out. Her sassiness. Her fire. “Yes, Mr. Caruso. I regret my actions.”
“Hmm. Well done, Barbarian.” Enzo smirks at me. “I think we can call it a day, then. If I were you, Arria, I’d never return to this club. In fact, I’d avoid this part of the city altogether. I might not be in such a forgiving mood if we cross paths a third time.”