Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Just hearing her voice and getting to see her eased some of the pain in my chest.
I hear barking and get up from the chair. When I head down the stairs, I see Luna sitting by the sliding doors, her tail wagging and tongue hanging out.
I push the sliding doors open, and Luna wags her tail so hard even her backside wiggles. I crouch down and let her lick me. “Yeah, I missed you too, sweet girl.”
“You’re home,” Dad calls out as he walks up the path.
“Yeah.” I straighten to my full height. “Thanks for looking after Luna.”
“Your mother loved having her around,” he replies as he comes to stand in front of me. Giving me a worried look, he asks, “How are you holding up?”
I shrug. “I’m fine.”
I don’t think I’ll ever be fine again. Not with Rosalie on the other side of the country.
Dad nods to his place. “We haven’t sat down together for dinner in a while.”
I gesture to the stairs. “Give me an hour to catch up on work, then I’ll come over.”
I need my fucking phone to charge before I go anywhere.
Dad gives me a look of warning. “Don’t make me come get you.”
I let out a chuckle and watch as he walks back up the path.
Patting Luna’s head, I say, “Come, girl.” She follows me up the stairs but goes to Rosalie’s bedroom.
When I glance inside, my heart constricts painfully.
Jesus, I can still smell her scent.
I walk into the bedroom, and sitting down on the bed, I slump back and stare up at the ceiling.
Luna comes to lie next to me and lets out a whining sound.
“I miss her too,” I whisper, rubbing a hand over the aching space in my chest where my heart is.
Come back to me, Rosalie.
Chapter 21
Rosalie
Arriving at the Parisi mansion, I pay the cab driver and climb out.
Staring at the house and beautiful gardens where I spent a lot of time growing up, a smile curves my mouth.
God, I haven’t been here in ages. It still looks the same, though.
The mansion was built in a Mediterranean style. Trellises with vines cover the walls, reminding me of Romeo and Juliet.
Alissa and I used to climb down the trellises and pretend we were on a secret mission as we sneaked through the vast gardens, trying to see how far we could get before a guard spotted us.
Seeing something from my past that hasn’t changed is comforting.
I walk through the massive iron gates and smile at the guard. “I’m here for Alissa’s party.”
“Name,” he grumbles, eyeing me up and down.
“Rosalie Manno.”
His eyes narrow on me, then he nods to a golf cart. “Alessandro! Take the girl up to the mansion.”
“Thank you.”
I climb onto the golf cart and smile at Alessandro, but he doesn’t bother acknowledging me.
I glance at the flower beds and trimmed hedges as we drive to the front door. Mr. Parisi steps out onto the porch and watches as we come to a stop at the foot of the steps.
A wide smile spreads over my face as I climb off. “Hi, Mr. Parisi.”
His eyes sweep over me. “Rosalie. I was surprised when I heard you’re back in New York.”
I take the steps up. “I only got back last week.”
We lean in and kiss each other’s cheeks, then Mr. Parisi says, “Follow me.”
“Everything still looks the same,” I mention as we walk into the house.
I hear music coming from out back, where the party is already in full swing. I’m a little surprised when Mr. Parisi leads me to his study.
The moment I step inside and see the other four heads of the Cosa Nostra sitting on the couches, my stomach tightens with nerves.
Mr. Parisi shuts the door, then says, “You remember Mr. Caruso, Mr. Amoto, Mr. Messina, and Mr. Greco, right?”
Swallowing hard, I nod. “It’s nice to see you all again.”
Mr. Parisi leans back against the heavy wooden desk and gestures at a chair that’s been placed in the middle of the room.
Cautiously, I move closer and sit down, clutching my handbag on my lap.
Something is very wrong.
Mr. Parisi stares at me for a moment, then asks, “Why did you come back to New York?”
My tongue darts out to wet my lips. “I grew up here.”
“Still.” He pushes away from the desk and shoves his hands into his pockets. Tilting his head, he continues, “Your family was banned from New York.”
What?
“This is Cosa Nostra territory, and no Manno is welcome. Your grandfather knew this when we cut ties with him.” His eyes narrow on me. “I thought we made it clear when we assassinated your father.”
Waves of chock rush over my skin, and my lips part on a gasp.
The Cosa Nostra was responsible for the accident my father died in?
The corner of Mr. Parisi’s mouth lifts. “But you didn’t know this, right?”