Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
I realize I don’t know much about my future husband. I don’t know what he’s done, and what he’s capable of doing.
Only that he wants to protect me.
And he punched my ex in the face, which is a massive bonus.
“All right, I’ll wait for Evander to give me details. I just… if I’m going to be a part of this family, I want to try to get along with everyone.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about that. I like you, Lycus likes you, and obvious Evander does too.”
“But your mother?”
Helen pauses for a moment. “Mother will come around.”
“I knew it, she hates me already.”
“Mother doesn’t know you.” She sighs and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t come here to talk about everyone else. I really shouldn’t have started it.”
“No, that’s not your fault, I’m the one that asked.”
“I just stopped by to say welcome to the family, and I wanted to invite you to coffee. Maybe tomorrow morning? Or the day after? We could go on your lunch break.” Her grin returns and she leans forward. “By the way, how did you convince Evander to let you keep working here?”
“I didn’t give him much choice,” I grumble and force myself to smile back. “But coffee sounds great. Tomorrow should be perfect.”
“Wonderful. Honestly, Camille, I look forward to getting to know you better, since we’ll be sisters soon.” Helen beams at me before sliding out of the booth.
I want her to stay. I have a million more questions—about her, about Evander, about everyone in her family—but I get the sense I already pushed too far and she’s making a tactical retreat. She’s probably worried about telling me too much and pissing Evander off somehow, which doesn’t seem all that hard to do.
Chapter 26
Evander
I step over broken glass and the smell of burned wood and scorched plastic fills my nostrils. Lycus moves behind me, and several of my most trusted soldiers are spread throughout the building.
“When did this happen?” I ask quietly.
Lycus grunts as he picks up an expensive bottle of whiskey, the bottom cracked and the insides already leeched out and likely burned. “Last night,” he says. “Fire company got here but by then it was too late.”
I clench my jaw and nod. The club is blackened and ruined, the central bar a pile of charred and destroyed wood. I can barely make out the shape of the place—the dance floor, the tables, the decorations on the walls and the lights in the ceiling—but the scatter of bullet holes near what’s left of the DJ booth are unmistakable.
“I assume the proper bribes were dealt,” I say and Lycus nods. “Do we know who it was?”
“Pavone,” he says with gravity in his voice.
“No doubt about it. Witnesses claim it was four Italian guys.”
“Only four?” My eyebrows raise. “This is our turf, Lycus. How did four men do this?”
“They came in fast and hard. Killed two of our soldiers and threw Molotov cocktails into the liquor. The fire started fast and it was a panicked stampede as people rushed to get out.”
“Were there any other casualties?”
“Fortunately, no.” Lycus tosses the ruined bottle aside and it shatters. More useless mess we’ll have to clean up later. “None of the patrons were killed, but, Evander, there are dozens of traumatized people. The fire was bad, and it could’ve been a lot worse.”
“We need to hit them back.” I stand in the middle of the dance floor, glaring around me. I can picture this place at the height of a Saturday night—packed with sweating, dancing bodies, with people having a good time, people out to forget their problems for a night, and those fucker Italians had to bring our war to them.
This club is a minor part of my family. It’s on the fringes of our territory, and it doesn’t bring in all that much money, but the owners are loyal to the Kazan organization. Even if they aren’t important, I need a show of force and strength, and I need it right now.
The Pavones cannot think that they can walk into one of my places, no matter how out of the way and unimportant, without retribution.
“This is how things spiral,” Lycus says quietly, making sure none of the soldiers can hear. “They hit us, we hit them. Blood for blood. Where does it end, Evander?”
“With them dead.” I snarl at him, barely keeping myself under control.
“Have you considered that your actions with Camille brought this on? That things were tense, but not violent before her, and now—”
“And now, what?” I turn on him, my voice going deadly calm, but inside I want to crack his face open. “You think I should turn my back on Camille? I should forget about her and leave her to Conti?”
“No,” Lycus says, shaking his head. “But I do think we need a plan.”