Ciao Bella (The Rise of the Langes #1) Read Online Rachel Van Dyken

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia, New Adult Tags Authors: Series: The Rise of the Langes Series by Rachel Van Dyken
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Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 72496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 290(@250wpm)___ 242(@300wpm)
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“Hold tight.” He ignored me. “I’m riding this as hard as someone would ride you if you were marginally attractive.”

“Bite me.”

“I like my mouth clean, thank you.”

Ah, the joy of the first day.

We’d be lucky to be alive in the next thirty.

CHAPTER FIVE

“Never say never, and never doubt someone born out of blood, they may actually thrive from it.” —King Campisi

Ivan

Staring up at the giant brick building of torture did not give a person warm fuzzies, if anything, I was wondering how long it would take before Bella quite literally tried to come up with a solid plan to shove me off the roof.

She’d say she slipped.

I’d be a splat on the concrete.

What did I ever do to her that she hates me so much? I mean, I had a slight clue… Furthermore, why did she annoy me so much other than how spoiled she was and the embarrassment that I had always been secretly jealous of her?

I had to play nice, but the Abandonato Family was single-handedly the reason most of my Family died. I knew they deserved it, but blood was blood, it was engrained in me to be loyal to your blood, no matter how crazy it sounded, just another reason they made us swear fealty with blood—it made us one.

Gross.

“Huh.” Bella pointed up at the same building. “Wonder if they keep the rooftop locked, might be a place to go and think.”

“About death, yes, all ten seconds before it came for you.”

“Dramatic much? Falls are messy, not enough torture, you know? I’m more of a slow poison or locking you on the roof and starving you to death sort of person.”

Do I invest in safety equipment and extra food, shit she had a tendency to get dark. Pretty sure her dad had a harness somewhere and I know for a fact Phoenix had a shit ton of rope I could steal, it’s stored in what I’d like to call, the dungeon right next to some shady looking machetes, several knives, and a noose that he often uses so blood isn’t technically on his hands.

And that’s just storage dungeon number one, his entire basement was a compound of torturous delights, though there was one room reserved for him and Bee.

I’d never asked, nor did I even want to know.

Ah, already planning on warfare on my first day back. Should that ever be a question you ask yourself in college? Yes? No? Maybe?

I needed coffee.

I checked my phone as we started walking in to the dorm, people gave us a wide birth. I almost rolled my eyes, they were so impressed with our money, good looks, ability to make people shit their pants, it’s like we weren’t even human anymore.

A few of the other De Lange cousins who I rarely talked to were in the same dorm, they were in training though, none of them were made—they hadn’t had their first few kills, they hadn’t earned it.

And they sure as hell hadn’t earned it the same way I had, but that was a secret, one only Junior knew about, one he said to keep until the right time. I never questioned his motives after that moment, the rest of the Families thought I’d never spilled blood.

Another reason Phoenix was so hellbent on saving me via philosophy, he had no clue I’d been doing shit for his own son for years-and had blood-stained nightmares because of it.

“Do it.” Junior handed me the knife. “He betrayed you, he betrayed us, the Family, and betrayal is betrayal.”

I didn’t remind him I was only eighteen, or that I was born out of blood and terrified of what would happen to me if I set the rage free. I was a De Lange after all, I’d heard rumors that the De Langes became addicted to blood, addicted to the adrenaline that followed after taking a life and obsessed with more.

Phoenix, his father, watched from the corner of the room, he was staring hard at a black folder and then back at his phone. Were his hands shaking? It was supposed to be a training exercise after all, what do you do in this sort of situation?

I’d never seen him looked stressed or confused; he was both. I kept staring, yes, he was clearly both in a way that sent chills down my spine.

Junior suddenly smacked me in the back of the head with the hilt of the knife. “Look at me, not him. Do your job prove your worth to a dying Family who might one day need you to take the reins.”

My head jerked up. It was the first time he’d said something like that to me before. He was fearless, and he was the interim boss, why would he even say that out loud?

Something in his eyes flashed. A warning? A premonition?


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