Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
It’s strange, but I feel like I think more clearly next to Fynn, and I need to figure out what I’m doing with my wife, what I want from her, and what I can expect. There’s so much swirling all around, all these moving pieces, from Danil to our parents to poor dead Manuel to Fynn, and on and on, and in the midst of it all, there’s Olivia.
“How’s she doing?” Karah looks at me expectantly. “Your trip seems like it was successful. Elise texted and said she saw Olivia.”
I shrug a little. “She’s fine. Back home now, but she’s on house arrest. Room arrest, really.”
She smiles to herself. “Gavino owes me money then. I bet him you’d bring her back and he thought you’d leave her there.”
“I want half of that.” My eyebrows raise. “That’s my action too.”
“Too bad, it was my bet. Besides, you made the right choice, so you’re a winner either way.”
“Are you sure about that?” I lean back, slumping slightly. I roll my neck trying to relieve some of the tension in my shoulders. “I’m worried you’re wrong and this is all some massive mistake. Olivia doesn’t want to be here and I’m not sure I want her.”
Karah’s quiet. My sister has been through a lot, especially with Nico. It’s been hard for her these last few years, but she finally found a slice of joy with her family, her little boy, her husband. She’s been thriving ever since, and I’m proud of the way she overcame adversity and managed to keep on going, despite my father trying to shove her back. But Father’s dead and gone, and she doesn’t need to worry about him anymore.
“If Fynn died, what would you do to get revenge?” Her question has an obvious answer, but I sense the trap.
“Anything,” I say simply. “I’d burn this city to the ground.”
“You mean that literally too.”
I know what she’s doing, but I can’t help it. “If Fynn died, I’d do anything to find the people that hurt him and make them pay.”
“That’s all Olivia’s doing. Her brother died a long time ago, but she’s still hunting the people she hates. You understand that, don’t you?”
“I do and if that were all, I could forgive her. I might not like it but at least I could understand. But she ran away and abandoned me only a day after Fynn got shot. That says so much about her priorities. How can I trust her anymore?”
“Does it matter though? Fynn’s not her brother. She’s new to our family and my understanding is she barely wants to be here at all. Can you really blame her for doing what she thinks is right?”
I work my jaw, shaking my head. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Well, I do, and I’m tired of being quiet just because you’re the big bad Don. You’re my brother, Casso, and I don’t want to see you screw up something good.”
“What the hell do you know about something good?” I glare at Karah now, seething, but I’m not mad at her. I’m angry with myself for getting put in this position at all. I wish things were simple and I were capable of making everything right with Olivia.
“Don’t be stupid. I see the way you look at each other. When she’s around, it’s like you’re ten years younger again. You’re happy with her in a way I never really expected from you. I know she messed up when she went back to Mexico, but she wasn’t wrong to do it. She did it for a good reason, not just to escape you or something.”
I slam my hand down on the arm of my chair. “Enough. I don’t want to hear this.” Because her words are all the words in my heart, echoing the same arguments I’ve made quietly in my mind a hundred times.
The messed-up thing is, I want to forgive Olivia more than anything, and I desperately want someone to give me an excuse to do it.
“You need to hear this.” She sits up straight and leans forward, glaring at me across the sleeping body of my brother. “Olivia’s good for you. If you keep going on like this, you’re going to ruin your one chance at being happy. It’s a small miracle you got her back in your life, please don’t ruin it just because you’re too proud. She made a mistake, people do that sometimes. Get over it, forgive her, and move on.”
I glare hate at my sister. She glares it right back. When we were kids, I would’ve tried to shove her over, and that would’ve turned into an all-out brawl—Karah was never shy about trying to beat the crap out of us just because she was a girl. We didn’t hold back either. Back then, all of us would get into these enormous shouting matches with thrown fists and screaming and the staff would roll their eyes. I feel like that again, seething at my sister for telling me how I feel when I know damn well how I feel already. I don’t need to hear it from her.