Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76694 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Her ex, Eddie, hated that she was with you—that you wouldn’t allow her a life outside of the nights you’d let her suck your cock,” she bellows.
My jaw tenses, her crass, loud mouth causing another scene.
“Out back,” I grind out to Marcello, marching through the bar, feeling the burn of eyes on me from every angle.
Entering my office, I sit behind my desk giving a barrier between us so I don’t snap her neck if she insults me again.
She’s brought in, tugging herself free from Marcello’s grip.
“Quite a potty mouth on you,” I offer a seat with a gesture of the hand to the one next to her. She shakes her head, the ginger fluff bouncing with her movement.
“Tell me about Eddie,” I encourage.
“Like what?” she glares over at me. If looks could kill I’d be a pile of ash right now.
When I don’t speak, she rolls her eyes. “He’s a drug addict piece of shit who used to slap her around.” Pursing her lips she adds, “She was a glutton for punishment. She’d always go back to him—until you.” She crosses her arms, defiant.
What is it with these ballerinas?
“What is Eddie’s last name?”
“Johnson. He’s a dangerous man,” she warns me, softening.
I want to laugh. If only she knew how dangerous the man she’s been mouthing off to is, she’d bite that tongue of hers.
“Take the tuition. If not for you, then for Serena. She would want you to take the money,” I tell her.
Her stubborn chin juts forward. “Fine. But it doesn’t mean you’re forgiven.”
I don’t need forgiveness, just retribution.
“Understood.” I give her a nod, letting her have closure.
She smacks her lips and leaves a little less fiery than she arrived.
“See she finds her way out,” I instruct to Marcello. “And find this Eddie, bring him to me.”
“It will be my pleasure.” His eyes light up.
Eddie Johnson is about to meet his maker.
Chapter Twenty
Alyssa
When the girl passes me guided by Marcello, I want to grab onto her and demand to know what’s going on, but she’s rushed through to the exit and would probably tell me to fuck off anyway.
“Who is she talking about?” I turn to Simon. All the warmth has left my body. “I know that girl.” She’s unmissable, I’ve passed her in the halls at Swan.
“Don’t ask questions, Alyssa. It will only lead to bad answers,” he warns before turning back to his customers. I feel rattled, and for the first time, a little afraid of the man I’ve been daydreaming about and who he really is.
Moments later, Marcello deposits her on the sidewalk waiting for her to walk away before returning.
“Marcello?” I call as he makes his way back toward us.
Holding his hand up to us, he says, “All sorted. Just a misunderstanding. Take a house bottle to every table and apologize for the interruption.” Not leaving room for questions he disappears again.
It’s another hour working on Jell-O legs before my break comes around. I find Hannah in her office, looking queasy.
“Did you hear about what happened?” I ask, making my way over to her desk, taking the seat opposite her.
“Are we friends?” I flinch at her sudden question, a warmth stirs in my stomach, it takes me off guard. We don’t really know each other, but I’ve felt a connection to her throughout my short time here.
“I’d like to think so,” I tell her honestly. I could use friends.
Worrying her lip, she tracks a path to the door making sure it’s closed.
“I wasn’t being cautious when I told you the Leto men are dangerous.” She frowns, swigging from an open bottle of water.
“What do you mean?” I ask, sitting forward.
“The girl who came in is the sister of a worker at one of Mr. Leto’s other businesses.”
“Okay?” My stomach knots in anticipation of what she’s going to say next.
“Her name was Serena. She was a server at a private club. She was Mr. Leto’s girl—exclusively.” My insides want to be on the outside. Jealousy and envy spawn inside me.
“Everyone knew she belonged to him. Especially her. She liked it, flaunted it,” Hannah sneers.
“Did he love her?” I ask, the possessiveness spreading inside me like a disease.
“God no.” She pulls a face like it’s a ridiculous question. “Mr. Leto isn’t built to love a woman, Alyssa. This is what I warned you about.”
Thud.
Not everyone needs or wants love.
Screwing the cap on her bottle she folds her hands into her lap, “Serena would never be more than his good time girl, and I think it broke something inside her. A sadness surrounded her, you know?” she swallows, I think she knows more about that than I.
“She could never truly be his. You don’t make women like her into wives.” She scoffs. “No one knows for sure what happened, why she went to a back room with someone other than him, but they found her in their private room, murdered.” She watches my face, waiting for the fear or shock to show, but I just want more information.