Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“I already like it. What else?”
“Good food, champagne, lots of pretty flowers, a band—”
“A band?” she exclaims.
“Yes. You know.” I raise an eyebrow. “Music.”
“Music?” she parrots. “Why?”
I adjust the eyepatch, hiding my expression behind my hand.
“I’m just surprised,” she says when I don’t reply. “I didn’t take you for the band kind of type.”
“I want to dance with my wife, Cole,” I admit. “I never had a chance at our wedding.”
“Oh, Sav.” She tilts her head, giving me a compassionate look. “That’s the reason for the cane, isn’t it? That’s why you’re pushing yourself so hard.”
Relenting, I say, “Pretty much.” I take another swig of brandy. “I won’t be able to walk normally by April, but I want to hold Anya in my arms on the dance floor without a fucking cane between us.”
“Okay.” She shifts to the edge of her seat. “I’m going to go against my better medical judgment and tell you to work the hell out of that cane. I’m close to tears now, and you know I never cry.”
“Please, spare me.”
Suddenly all business, she asks, “What’s the date?”
“The eighteenth.”
She slams her can on the desk and jumps to her feet. “Fuck. We have a lot to do before then. What’s your budget?”
“Money isn’t an issue.”
Technically, it is, but I want to do this for Anya. She deserves it. I can put some of the money from the sale of the Corvette that I was going to spend on extra weapons aside.
“Wait.” Nicole holds up a hand. “The dress code is formal, right? How are you going to get her into an evening gown without spilling the beans?”
“I’ll let Livy in on the plan. We’ll come up with an excuse.”
“Good.” Nicole rounds the desk and plants a kiss on my cheek. “I’ll see you later, gator.” She clacks her way to the door and turns on the threshold. “Expect a lot of emails from me. We have shit to look at and shit to approve.”
“Got it,” I say to her back with a grin when she waltzes from the room.
While Nicole leaves to arrange my wife’s twenty-fifth birthday party, I throw myself into doing what I do best, which is strategizing.
I study Raphael’s comings and goings as I’m sure he studies mine. I know his money pickup routine. He changes it often, playing it safe, but the kickbacks have to be collected each month. His men go around his territory on a rotation basis, visiting clubs and businesses every other week. That’s where and when we’ll strike.
I’m tying down the dates when my phone buzzes next to my laptop. I glance at the screen. It’s Dante. He’s doing a great job of running the business with Anya while I’m scheming the downfall of the Morellis.
I swipe the button to answer, putting the phone on speaker. “Dante?”
“You’re going to want to hear this.”
His tone gives me pause. Snatching up the phone, I press it against my ear. “What’s going on?”
“It’s Anya.”
Every muscle in my body tenses, my fighting instinct to protect her already kicking in. “What happened?”
“She just walked into After Dark with four bags full of money.”
She did what?
My brain is getting ahead of me, going through a list of things she could’ve sold, which doesn’t add up to much besides her car.
“How much money?” I ask, my brain telling me there must be some confusion.
“Five million,” Dante says, knocking off my socks. “In hundred-dollar bills.”
Chapter
Twenty-Six
Anya
* * *
Livy is popping the cork of a champagne bottle in the office when the door bursts open and my very angry husband storms inside as fast as his limp allows.
He’s dressed in the jeans, hoodie, and heavy-duty boots of this morning when I kissed him goodbye. His dark hair isn’t brushed back as usual. It looks as if he’s messed it up by dragging his fingers through it.
Wow. Saverio is at the office? I’m too stunned to get a word out.
Dante and Livy go quiet.
Saverio drags a frantic gaze over me from my head to my toes as if he needs to assure himself that I’m not shot or stabbed. He moves his attention to the bags of money that sit open on his desk, and then he looks at Claire who’s lying on her play mat on the floor.
“Champagne?” Livy chokes out, half-heartedly offering him the glass she was pouring.
Instead of replying, he turns his ire on me. It’s me he looks at when he says in a chilling tone, “Everyone out. I need a word with my wife in privacy.”
Dante bends down and lifts Claire into his arms. “Come here, princess. It’s time to practice our Disney songs.”
He shoots me an apologetic look on his way to the door.
Thanks a lot, Dante.
Livy coughs. “I’ll, uh, finish pouring this later.”
She leaves the glass and the bottle on the desk and ducks her head as she passes Saverio. The door shuts with a click, closing us into a room that suddenly feels too small.