Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109562 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 438(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
I know, and in that lies the problem, because no matter what passed between us, I will always care about her in the way one cares about family. Besides, Luigi won’t take kindly to it. As much as Giorgio is his biggest disappointment, Rachele is his greatest pride. She’s always been the apple of his eye.
“You need to move on,” Giorgio says. “Find yourself a new girlfriend.”
My laugh is harsh. “I have no intention of ever falling into that trap again. Besides, my contact in the bureau said the police are asking questions about Anya and me. They want to know if we’re legit. Until such time as the investigation is closed, we’ll be the perfect, happy couple.”
Shaking his head, he says, “That’s a sick game, even for you. You’re going to have to kill her eventually. When the dust settles, she’ll disappear quietly.”
I clench my fingers into fists lest I strike out and strangle the very man I’m supposed to protect. “No one fucking touches her, or that cocksucker is dead.”
“Easy.” He raises his hands. “You’re acting like a dog with bone.”
“She’s important,” I bite out. “As long as she’s my ticket to freedom, she’s my property, and I’ll kill anyone who lays a finger on what belongs to me.”
“Jesus, Sav.” He pinches his eyebrows together. “You need to get laid, man.” Resting his elbows on his knees, he leans closer. “Let’s go to the club tonight. Nothing takes the edge off like pussy. We can take two each. Hell, why not three? We can fuck a different hole of each.”
My tone is cool. “You’re on your own. I’m supposed to be a faithful boyfriend, remember?”
He sighs and sits back. “You’re fucked up, know that?”
“I’d rather be fucked up than in jail.”
“It’s going to screw you up.” He taps his temple. “Not getting your dick sucked for months—because trust me, this investigation isn’t going to blow over any time soon—is going to make you cranky.”
Cranky is a light way of putting it. Not that blowjobs did much for me in the last few months. I suppose the problem was that I didn’t care about those flaxen-haired beauties. I felt nothing as they touched me, not for them and even less for myself. Like I said, they worked damn hard for their money. Pumping me empty took skill, effort, and a fuck-ton of patience. The only thing that prevented them from asking the question in the forefront of their minds was how much they feared me. No one would dare say the I-word and my name in the same sentence. As it turned out, it only took Anya to prove that I didn’t turn impotent overnight. I have no intention of becoming cranky when I can drag her into my bed. However, I don’t tell Giorgio that.
My phone rings just as we come down to land, cutting the conversation short.
Thank fuck.
I check the caller ID. Once the pilot has put the chopper down and cut the blades, I swipe the button.
“Livy, what a surprise. I hope everything is all right?”
“Yes, yes,” she says in a croaky voice. “As good as it can be at my age.”
“What can I do for you?”
Her tone is assertive. “You and I, mister, need to talk.”
In a wink, I’m on high alert. Did she find out something? Anya likes her. It would be a shame if I have to kill her, but I won’t hesitate to do what must be done.
“Of course,” I say, letting her hear the smile in my words. “Tonight?”
“It’s late already.” She adds quickly, “Well, too late for a visit. I’m an early riser, so I go to bed early.”
“How about tomorrow?”
“Nine o’clock,” she says in a no-nonsense manner. “I don’t want to sound like a cliché, Mr. De Luca, but don’t be late.”
With that, she hangs up.
“Who was that?” Giorgio asks, regarding me with suspicion.
“Anya’s neighbor, the old lady who caught us and thought we were making out in the street.” I pocket my phone. “She wants to talk.”
He narrows his eyes. “About what?”
I open the hatch and get out. “I’ll find out tomorrow.”
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Anya
To say I’m apprehensive when I walk into the ob-gyn’s office on Monday is an understatement. She wouldn’t have insisted to see me in person if something wasn’t wrong. On top of that, I had to call Ms. Price on Saturday and not only ask if I could come in to work late but also for an advance on my salary so that I could pay for the doctor’s visit. She didn’t like either, and that only adds to my anxiety.
The doctor stands from behind her desk when the secretary shows me into her office. She extends a hand and gives me a friendly smile. “Ms. Brennan, thank you for coming.”
I clear my throat and shake her hand. “Thanks for making time to see me.”