Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77276 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77276 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“And sad? No.” I said quietly. “I’m angry. I want them to suffer. I want them to regret the day they decided to kill my father and destroy my family. Cosimo, Falcone and everyone else who was involved in this.”
Growl nodded, as if that was an emotion he could comprehend. He wasn’t even offended that my list possibly included him as well. He had been part of the attack on my family, even if he wasn’t the head of the operation, merely Falcone’s brutal hand.
“Don’t say anything like that at the party,” Growl warned.
“I’m not stupid. I won’t say anything like that.” But I remembered the last time I’d seen Falcone and how I’d challenged him. My hatred for him had only grown since then. Stopping myself from trying to scratch his eyes out or better yet cut his throat with a oyster knife would be hard.
“I know you’re not stupid. But stupidity’s got nothing to do with it. Emotions follow their own rules.”
How would you know? I wanted to ask but kept the words to myself. As ridiculous as it may sound, Growl was perhaps my only alley at that party tonight. I wasn’t sure what to expect from Trish and Anastasia, even though I hoped we’d still be friends and they’d help me.
Cosimo’s house was smaller than Falcone’s but he, too, had a fountain in his driveway, although smaller than Falcone’s. When Growl and I entered the house, every pair of eyes zoomed in on us. Conversation died down, only to pick up a moment later, but this time behind held-up hands and with stolen glances in my direction. Everyone was talking about me. Heat rose up into my head, but I forced myself to stand tall and appear relaxed despite the urge to flee. Growl put his palm against my lower back and for a moment the gesture actually managed to relax me, but people quickly noticed the touch and I could almost hear their nasty words. I took a small breath and let Growl push me further into the room. Small tables with appetizers were spread out in the large living and dining area. I supposed Cosimo had chosen the same caterer as Falcone. He seemed very keen on imitating his boss in every way possible anyway.
And though everything seemed like a cheap copy of Falcone’s party, I caught myself wanting to be the hostess. This was supposed to be my engagement party. The happiest day of my life, at least for outward appearances. And now…
My eyes registered Anastasia and Cosimo at the end of the room, near a huge golden Champagne cooler. Anastasia wore a new floor-length silver gown that made her look like a princess. And beside her stood Cosimo in a dark suit, one arm wrapped around his fiancée’s waist. Bile rose up in my throat and the smile plastered on my face turned painful. I needed something to drink. Something strong. Growl seemed to read my mind because a moment later, a glass with red wine appeared in front of my face. The other women drank champagne or white wine, so I was surprised by his choice.
“Red is supposed to calm people down. Maybe you too.”
I could have kissed him then. I’d have never expected something as thoughtful from a man like him. But my moment of peace was short-lived as we made our way toward Falcone who acted like he was the host of this evening, making grand gestures with his arms and laughing the loudest while the people gathered around him tried to act like he was actually saying something funny.
I took a big gulp of wine, praying it would calm me quickly before I did something that would prevent me from ever getting the chance to see my mother and sister again. I couldn’t lose it tonight. There would be time for revenge one day, but not at this party.
Growl’s grip on my back tightened when we stopped in front of Falcone as if he was trying to warn me.
“Nice party, boss,” Growl commented.
Falcone smiled broadly. “Not my party, sadly. Cosimo did a good job. He’s trying to impress his little lady.” Finally, his cold eyes settled right on me, boring into my own eyes, triumphant and taunting. My fingers tightened on my glass but I forced my face to remain calm. I doubted I was successful. Practically every inch of me was burning with hatred, with the need to make this man in front of me suffer.
“I hope you are as happy for your friend and Cosimo as everyone else,” he said falsely.
Say something. Say something. But all I could think about was if it was possible to smash the glass and cut Falcone’s throat with one of the shards before any of the men around us would come to his help.