Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Laura Bianco is the goddamn enemy. She’s everything I should hate. And yet all I can do is think about her, and that’s only going to be worse now.
She looks so fucking perfect naked. And even better when she’s fucking herself into an orgasm to the sound of my words.
She’s a fucking infection I can’t shake.
I turn back to my computer. The connection to her system is still open. I have her laptop, her security cameras, even her Wi-Fi-connected washing machine. Half the devices in the oasis have back doors in them now, and I’m working on the rest. Their IT guys have no clue they’ve been owned.
It was a huge fucking risk. If I had gotten caught, everything I’ve worked to create would go up in smoke. And yet I did it, because I can’t help myself.
She’s in my blood. She’s in my lungs.
I hear her. I can’t see her, because she closed the lid, but I hear her moving around her room. She’s getting dressed, brushing her teeth. I listen for a little while, and it’s strange—the excitement of getting her off was like a drug, but this is almost as good.
This intimacy.
I feel close to her. Like we’re actually together. I haven’t been with a woman in so long, not really. I’ve been so focused on picking up the pieces after Luciano’s death that I haven’t had time for relationships. Valentina thinks I need to start dating again, and maybe she’s right.
The problem is, I want Laura Bianco, and that’s not possible.
I sit in the dark of my room and keep listening as she turns out the light and crawls under the covers. I don’t stop listening, even when she’s breathing deep and steady.
It’s a chilly evening in Chicago. Summer’s coming to an end and fall is on the way, but the leaves haven’t started dropping yet. I slump down in the seat of my car watching a quiet house in a nice neighborhood from slightly down the block. It’s late, but that doesn’t surprise me. Michael Esposito is always late, always working hard to provide for his nice little family.
Three kids. Two girls and a boy. The youngest is seven and heading into second grade. His wife works at an office job downtown, and together they make a decent living. The restaurant isn’t as busy as it once was, and I’m guessing they’re stressed about money these days. I can’t blame them: college isn’t fucking cheap, and their kids seem like they’re pretty smart. Loans are in their future unless something good happens.
He shows up around twelve thirty. The restaurant’s been closed since eleven, but that’s the kind of guy he is. He’ll be in bed by one and awake by six to help get the kids out the door, then back to sleep for another couple hours, before the day starts all over. A good man, a family man.
As soon as he parks, I pull on the jackal mask and get out of my car.
I have to walk fast and cover ground quickly. My fingers wrap around the grip of the gun in my pocket. He gets out, sighing as he does it, and closes his door. I reach him before he makes it to the front door, one hand grabbing his left wrist and wrenching it up, the other hand jamming the butt of my gun against his head.
“What the fu—” I kick him in the back of the knee hard and his curse is cut off by a grunt of pain.
“If you shout, I’ll kill you. If you fight, I’ll kill you.” I lean down and bury the gun harder into his hair. “Do you understand, Michael?”
“What’s happening?” he says, voice shaking with terror.
“You love your kids. You love your wife. You work hard, don’t you? Answer me.”
“Yes, yes, I do, please. Don’t hurt me. I have a family. There’s money, there’s money inside, and my car, and my wallet—”
“Shut the fuck up.” I put more pressure on his wrist and he groans in pain. “A man is going to approach you in five days. He’s going to offer to buy your restaurant for more than it’s worth.”
“What?” He shakes his head. “I don’t understand.”
“Turn your head. Look at me.”
He hesitates, but slowly, he does it. His eyes go wide as he looks at my jackal face staring blankly back at him. I covered the eyeholes with smoked glass just for this. Makes everything hard to see, but fuck it, the effect is pretty creepy.
“Who are you?” he whispers.
“Five days. He’ll make you an offer. If you say no, I will come back, and I will kill your family. I’ll start with the kids, and I’ll make your wife watch. Then I’ll kill you. Do you understand?”
He’s crying now. I can’t blame him. “Please. Please, don’t, I don’t, please, just—”