Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 88153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88153 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
“Our little Emilia has become quite the piccolo soldato,” Antonio says shaking his head.
I can’t help but laugh as I agree. “Little soldier,” I translate. “That seems fitting.”
“Are you up to interrogating Katherine?” he asks, searching my face for any sign of hesitation.
“I’ll fake it.”
“I’ll have her brought here.”
I hate being weak. I hate my friends thinking I might be. I’ll get through this somehow. There’s no choice in the matter. I’ll do this for Maxwell and my wife….
My wife.
CHAPTER 43
Niko
I’m fucking worn out. It pisses me off that I feel this weak. I lean back in my office chair with a heavy sign. I had them remove all the hospital crap from in here right away. Emilia has been giving me hell about it, saying I might need it here to make sure I’m all right.
Antonio was right. She has become a little soldier, but when I told her I’m sleeping in my bed with her tonight, she shut up. I’m pissed that I can’t be the man she needs right now. Even now while she gets ready for the funeral service, I should be in there, supporting her, but I’m sitting in a damn chair like an invalid because my body is so fucking weak.
Antonio will be back with Katherine soon. I just need this over with. I hope I have enough in me to be with Emilia tonight at the service. I know she needs me, and I want to be there for Maxwell, too. Thinking of my friend, the man that I love as if he were my own father fills me with pain, making me grab the paperweight off my desk and tossing it across the room. It doesn’t go far. I’m so weak it hits the floor with a thud and rolls away.
“Fuck,” I hiss.
Victorio walks in, just missing the scene. “Are you imagining that’s my head, boss?”
I level him with my stare. “It’s possible if you don’t get my wife out of your head.”
He winces. “You have nothing to worry about.”
“Oh, I know that. Emilia is mine, but Victorio, I won’t have you lusting after her,”
I tell him through gritted teeth. Just the thought of any man fantasizing about my wife has me seeing red. It’s hard to keep myself under control. The only thing stopping me from punching him, is I can’t—damn it all to hell.
“It’s not like that. It won’t be an issue. I was there for her when she needed a friend.”
I nod curtly. “Make sure that’s all it is.”
“As long as you’re here, that’s all it will ever be.”
“Well, I’m not going anywhere, motherfucker,” I bite out. Vic laughs, shaking his head as Antonio shows up.
“I’d offer you my chair, but…” I tell him dryly as he waves it off and plops down on the chair across my desk. It’s angled so he can see me and see the seat square in the middle, facing my desk. The only problem is that seat is empty, missing the reason we’re all here.
“Let’s get this shit over with,” Antonio says.
“Where’s Katherine?”
Just as the words leave my mouth, two security guards drag Katherine into the room. Bound and gagged. They sit her down in the empty chair. I look at the woman that I don’t even recognize anymore.
I’ve wasted too much damn time…
“I’m glad I didn’t get that job,” Vic mutters.
Antonio gives him a side eye. “You should be.”
“Bound and gagged? Isn’t that a little excessive?” I ask quietly.
“The gagging might be, but I couldn’t stand to hear that bitch’s voice any longer,” Antonio grumbles. “The sound makes my balls shrivel. Why in the fuck did you waste so much time with her, Niko? I pegged you for being smarter than that.”
“Apparently, I was stupid,” I mutter. I look at her as she stares at me through wide eyes. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she was in shock.
“You look surprised to see me, Katherine. Why is that? Did you think you and Dante had managed to finish me off?”
I watch the color leech from her face as her eyes go wide. I know instantly that it’s the truth.
Fuck. Emilia had it figured out.
“We already know you were working with Dante. We already know what you’ve done. If you hope to live through this, you need to answer everything truthfully because one lie and it’s over—”
Emilia walks in. My wife is in her mourning clothes, ready to mourn her father in front of his family. It seems fitting she would walk in looking like she has no fucks to give, because right now I don’t think she has any. That’s when I spot the very large, shiny hunting knife. The handle is what gives it away.
Closing my eyes, I sigh. “Antonio…” I glance at him, and he shrugs. That’s his knife. It has a stag handle that his father had made for him on his seventeenth birthday. He gave her his favorite knife.