Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
The hostess removes the place settings and straightens the tablecloth while a waiter goes over with clean glasses and cutlery.
“Don’t complain,” I say. “If he was at the top of the food chain, he’d do the same to us.”
“Not all people are selfish and without morals.”
“You stroke my ego, my love.” I rest a hand on her side where her belly expands, enjoying how she feels under my hand. “I happen to be proud of my reputation.”
The waitress walks up to tell us our table is ready.
I get to my feet to help Anya down from her seat when my scalp pricks in the way it does when I have eyes on me. I wouldn’t put it past Jordan to follow us inside just to spoil the evening for Anya, but without a search warrant or a reservation, he won’t get a foot through the door.
I turn my head and catch a man staring. Caught red-handed, he cuts his gaze to a spot on my left, pretending to look at something beyond me, but I know who he is. My eyes tighten with recognition. Rage rolls through me, pulling my hands into fists.
Justice Kearney.
The fucker smiles at the woman who sits opposite him as if he’s following every word of her conversation. He leaves his fork in his plate of spaghetti alle vongole and steeples his fingers while putting on an attentive expression. She gulps down a mouthful of red wine and continues to blabber while cutting into her tournedos Rossini. Judging by the wrinkles lining her face, her hair must be gray, but it’s dyed blond. Glossy lipstick shines on her botoxed lips. Mrs. Kearney. Yes, I familiarized myself with his history, his life, and his family. I studied every piece of information Dante got on him, his wife, and their four kids.
While he feigns unawareness, ignoring our presence, I take in his meticulously styled hair and manicured hands. He’s in shape, his stiff-colllared shirt fitting him well, but he’s soft in all the wrong places. A fist in the stomach will take him down easily. A heel on his dick will prevent him from impregnating another woman he’ll leave to fend for his child on her own. I imagine grinding my shoe on his testicles and castrating him. There’s nothing I want to do more than slam my fist into his pretty-boy face and break his nose. The violence is like a tsunami that builds inside me. It’s not only what he did to Anya. It’s what Nicole said about how the law will be on his side if he decides to take the baby away from us. It’s her words that spread like venom through my mind.
Anya follows my gaze and sucks in a breath.
“Stay,” I tell her, fury crackling in my voice.
She grabs at me but misses, my jacket slipping through her fingers.
The motherfucker looks up when I head straight for him. Panic washes over his features. I want to bounce his head off the table and split his skull open like a nut. I’ll take great joy in watching his brain matter pour out.
I’m vaguely aware of Anya following me, but I don’t reprimand her for not obeying my order. I’m too focused on Kearney, going for him like a missile locked on a target.
By the time I reach him, his face is whiter than the starched tablecloth under which he hides his shaking hands.
“Saverio,” Anya cries softly, finally catching up and managing to grip my arm.
I shake her off, pinning the fucker in front of me with a stare.
His wife bites off her monologue and gapes at me.
I plant a fist on either side of his plate on the table and get real close into his face. “This is what’s going to happen, you lowlife piece of shit. I’m going to have adoption papers delivered, and you’re going to sign over your paternal rights to the child you conceived with Anya.”
The wife pales, her mouth going even slacker as she turns her face and stares at Anya’s bump.
The restaurant has gone quiet. Everyone is looking, but no one dares to move.
“Saverio,” Anya whispers, pulling at my sleeve. “Please.”
I’m not done yet. “You’ll never make contact. If I catch you anywhere near Anya or the baby, you’ll wish you were born with a cunt instead of a cheating dick. As far as the paperwork goes, you’re nothing but a sperm donor. Make that a free-for-all sperm bank.” I stare him down. “Got that?”
His Adam’s apple rides up and down his throat. I want to grab the knife on his plate and stab it through his windpipe so badly that I have to count to ten to prevent myself from acting on the fantasy.
“Was that a yes?” I ask with a smile that will give grown men nightmares.