Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Hearing the name twists my guts until I'm sure I'll be sick. Sick with rage, disgust, and disbelief. “A fucking bomb. Just when I think he can't stoop any lower.”
“He's a fucking animal.” Romero's face is a mask of rage once we enter the house, and he gets a good look at the damage. “He's going to find out how fucking animals die.”
I still can't make sense of it. “There was no way of knowing who would pick up that package,” I muse. There are bits of cardboard on the floor, most of it charred. At least the alarm has been silenced, allowing me to hear myself think. “How long do you think it would take to get an idea of the sort of device they used?”
“I'm sure I know somebody.” He looks at his phone again, scrolling through his contacts. “Though I have to say, I don't know how much good it will do. I doubt we could track whoever manufactured it, and it isn't like we have any doubt of who's responsible.” He checks the time, grunting in frustration. “She needs to hurry. I'll feel better once she's out of here. For all we know, they're planning to send guys in here now, while we're all running around like chickens with our heads cut off.”
And there I was, prepared to propose. Ready to eat dessert, drink some coffee, and bid my future father-in-law goodnight before taking his daughter upstairs. I was going to spend the rest of the night basking in the warmth of her love.
The thought stirs my memory, and I dart to the kitchen, where I dropped the ring box when the bomb went off. A short search reveals it's lying under the table. To think, I had been moments away from placing the ring on her finger. The symbol of my devotion to her.
Now she's on her way to a safe house, because being too close to me is a liability, and I let Moroni go too far. I underestimated him, thinking he was nothing more than a useful idiot. I've done some unforgivable things in my life, but that underestimation has to be the worst.
“Boss? I have Costello on the phone.”
Sliding the box into my pocket, I join him in the hall. Sebastian's voice filters through the speaker loud and clear. “A bomb? Was anyone hurt?”
I exchange a look with Romero, that tells me he believes the concern is real. “No, everyone's fine. There's damage to the house but nothing severe.”
“I'm glad to hear that. It's a good thing Moroni's a fuck up, or else it might have been worse.”
“If you know anything…”
“I swear, I didn't know a thing. I would've warned you immediately if I had. I assumed it was Moroni because, you know. Everything that's been going on.”
I'm going to have to take his word for it. “Does he still consider you a friend?” I can't bring myself to say the bastard's name.
“He's dragging his feet on the deal, but we're cordial.”
“Call him up. Tell him you heard there was an explosion, but you don't have any details on the extent of the damage. I want confirmation, and I want to know where the fuck we can pick them up and yank their beating hearts from their chests.”
“Got it. I'll get back to you as soon as I know something.”
Romero locks eyes with me upon ending the call. “Do you trust him?”
“You heard him. He was ready to piss his pants.” My answer seems to be sufficient enough, as he nods before moving on to the next phone call.
It's only been a few minutes since I watched Bianca drive away. The fear in her eyes, the worry flashing at the forefront of my thoughts when I need to focus on ending this shit. Ending them, both of them, father and son. All the while, though, I receive updates from my men and wonder what the hell is taking Tatum so long.
My thoughts keep returning to my little bird. Is Bianca glad she didn't have the chance to give me an official answer before the bomb went off? I can't afford to think that way, yet I can't help it. She has the baby to think about now, as do I.
But while I want nothing more than to keep her close, she could very well decide this is the final straw. I believe she loves me, that she knows as well as I do that there's no killing what's between us.
However, she's also a realist.
Get it together. Whatever she's thinking, we can work it out, but not until I know both Moroni men are dead and buried six feet deep. I won't be taking chances with my family again.
“Where's Tatum?” Romero mutters between phone calls. “I would like to get out of here with her like five minutes ago.”