Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
I cautiously walk down the steps and to the door. When I crack it open, Thiago is standing on the other side, looking at me beneath his eyebrows. I frown when he flashes a small smile.
“What the hell do you want?” I mutter.
“Thought you might need some company.”
“And why would I need that? From you, of all people?” I respond with snide.
He smirks. “Okay. I lied. I actually came to get a book. I left it here a long time ago. Has some important stuff in it that I need.”
“At four in the morning?”
He shrugs carelessly. “My days never end.”
I look over his shoulder, down the empty corridor, and then I sigh, stepping back. “If you try anything, I’ll kill you myself,” I tell him when he walks past me.
He scoffs lightly, treading past and walking right up the stairs.
I watch him carefully before walking up the staircase myself. He’s scanning one of the shelves by the wall, eyes narrowed, when I make it to the top. I walk to the day bed, reaching beneath my pillow for Draco’s pocketknife. I took it from his weapon wall several days ago . . . just in case. He’s been too preoccupied to notice its missing.
I keep my hand beneath the pillow, my fingers curling around the wide handle. I pretend to relax as Thiago finally comes across a leather-bound book.
“Ah, aquí esta,” he sighs. Here it is.
He flips through the pages and, assuming whatever he’s looking for is there for him, he nods graciously. “What is it?” I ask, wary.
“Coordinates.”
“For what?”
“Where I bury some of my American cash.” He comes closer and I grip the knife even tighter. Sensing my tension, he releases a low laugh, leaning his lower back against the guardrail. He’s only about six steps away.
“Why do you need it?” I narrow my eyes.
“It’s my money.”
“Why would you keep the coordinates in a book in this library? Let alone, let me see which book you keep it in?” I study the front of the book, the word Biología written across the front in a dusty silver.
He laughs. “What the hell are you going to do with the money? I’m sure Draco will give you enough of it if you need it.”
I cock a brow. “You never know when I just might need some of my own to run away with.”
He looks me over. I’m still wearing Draco’s button-down shirt. It reaches the middle of my thighs. I look down, noticing the red marks on my ankles. I try and cross them, but they’re still visible
“I’m sure you won’t be running anywhere.” He pushes off the rail and I go still when he comes closer. “Can I sit?” he asks, sitting anyway.
I tense my jaw, the handle of the knife hard in my palm now as I slowly inch my hand from beneath the pillow.
“I know you think I’m some kind of traitor or backstabber. Hell, Draco thinks I could be too. I don’t know why he stopped trusting me out of nowhere. I used to be his right hand man. Now? Well, I’m more like his errand boy.”
My eyebrows draw together when he places the book down.
“What I wish he would understand is that I’m not my father. To be honest, I never liked the son-of-a-bitch. He was arrogant and got what he deserved from Draco. I’m sure you know the story.” He waves a hand, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “I would never betray Draco. He may not think so, but he’s still like a brother to me. He was all I had growing up and he’s saved my life more times than I can count. I don’t care about being a fucking Jefe or the king around here. All I care about is the money. When it comes to my life, family is first. Power? That means nothing to me, but it means everything to Draco and sometimes that is his downfall. I’ve told him letting that power get to his head might kill him one day. He always tells me he’s not afraid of death. I’m sure he’s not. Fucker isn’t afraid of anything.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I ask, scanning him suspiciously.
He shrugs, staring down at the book. “He likes you. Too much. That’s not usually something I can say about Draco to a woman.”
I ease up on the pocketknife when he looks into my eyes, earnestness filling them.
“I don’t know how you got under his skin, or how you got him so wrapped up around your finger, but if I were you, I wouldn’t fuck that up. Do you know how hard that is to come by? Getting Draco to do whatever you want him to do? That shit is fucking hard, believe me. Unless you are his mother, it doesn’t happen. Even with my aunt, he’s not always so lenient. If I would have smashed that sandwich on his expensive table he would have cut off several of my fingers for it. But not Gianna Nicotera. No,” he shakes his head with a light laugh. “Not you, little rebel.”