Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 35044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
I know her better than she knows herself, at least, I used to. Which is how I knew she was going to hand over the leadership to Christian before she even knew it herself. While it was the best decision for her to make, she couldn’t have known the kind of bullshit that would bring down over me. I did, though, and I was fucking prepared. It's the reason I allowed myself to get arrested and put behind bars for ten fucking years.
When Christian officially took over, the Wolves wanted to turn on him. Every fucker in there thought that they deserved the leadership, which is how I ended up with a fucking target on my head. Take me out, and they get to be the hero. Christian could have saved us all the fucking drama just by admitting that he was Russo’s biological son, but he had to go and prove himself instead. He wanted to earn it just like the rest of the fuckers did. Fuck, I’ve never been so happy that Ocean was able to distance herself from that bullshit and start fresh with her douchebag, rich prick of a boyfriend.
The number of Wolves inside that prison that came for my fucking head was insane. Every. Fucking. Day. Threat after threat until they finally realized that no one was going to bring me down. I’m Dominic Fucking Garcia; if you want to take me out, then you better bring the whole fucking cavalry.
I pull into an abandoned lot and look over the old warehouse that my father won in a bet over twenty years ago and let out a sigh. It’s a complete run-down piece of shit and will probably fall to the fucking ground during the next storm. But until I can find something more suitable to keep me hidden from the rest of the world while I run the Widows, this is home.
My father never put his name on this property, and it’s never been connected to the Widows. The police will never find me here, and neither will my enemies. Kai, Eli, and Sebastian are the only ones who know that I’m here, and they’re the only ones I’d ever trust with that information. After all, if they give me up to the cops, they’re coming right along with me for breaking me out in the first place. One of us goes down, we all go down. That’s just how it’s always been.
There’s an underground bunker beneath it, which is where I’ll be staying for the foreseeable future. I drive right around the warehouse and through the back garage door, looking around to make sure none of the neighboring warehouses have eyes on me. Though what would it matter if they did? If someone was to squeal around here, they’d end up with a bullet between their eyes. People in Breakers Flats know to keep to themselves. It’s the only way to survive around here.
I bring the car to a stop right beside the piece of shit car the boys got for me to use, knowing that the second they show up here later tonight, Sebastian will be taking it right back.
Getting out of the car, I make my way around to the backseat and grab the suitcase Roni packed and the handbag she’d thrown in my face. She probably won’t be needing that for a while, but she went to the effort of bringing it with her when she wanted to run, so I figured why the hell not?
I stash all her shit at the hidden entrance of the underground bunker, and as I turn to go back for Roni and look over the back of the car, I can’t help but smile to myself. The fucking smartass has kicked out the taillight and has probably spent the last half hour waving down passing cars, trying to get help. But what’s more, the little princess is watching me through the small hole, and with her eyes on me, I feel like I could do anything. Though, that also means that she knows exactly where she is.
I make my way toward her and watch her eyes narrow into slits with every step I take. My girl isn't afraid; she's pissed.
I pop the trunk, and she immediately tries to fly out of it, coming at me with a force I didn’t realize she was capable of. She must have taken self-defense lessons or at least logged a few hours in the gym every day. I wouldn’t be surprised, she looks fucking good, but no amount of hours in a gym is a match for me.
I catch her with ease, pushing her back before she tumbles right out of the trunk and hurts herself. “Go to hell,” she growls, looking at me with nothing but pure hatred.