Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41558 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 166(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41558 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 166(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
A beat of stunned silence made the air thick. I rarely spoke at meetings, much less threatened family members in an outburst of fury.
And all to protect our enemy’s daughter. My Allie.
She was mine, and I would slash my cousins to ribbons before I let them harm her. My hand twitched, wishing I had my knife so I could handle them right now, before they had a chance to get to her.
“I already told you two to stay away from the girl,” Father finally drawled, rebuking my cousins. “We’re opening the books for the rest of you this week. If you don’t want to get left behind, you’ll learn to obey my orders. Recklessness and disobedience will not be tolerated. You put the family at risk when you went after her. If she’d gone running to her father, you would be in jail by now, and the authorities would be at my door. Alexandra isn’t to be touched.”
Rage boiled in my veins, a vengeful heat. Paulie and John shouldn’t be initiated into our crime family. They should be punished for terrorizing Allie.
Before I could get the words out, Father said, “Maximus will handle Fitzgerald.”
Words stuck in my throat, where a strange lump formed. He was trusting me above all others to finish this mission. I was seated at his right hand. I was a made man, the rightful heir.
I was still unable to speak when he moved on, addressing my grandfather about our finances. The moment for taking my cousins down a peg passed, and I swallowed hard.
They weren’t a threat to Allie anymore. Father had ordered them to stand down. She was safe.
And I would risk his ire if I dared to interrupt him now.
I couldn’t bring myself to disappoint him, to lose my birthright once again. My scar tingled, and I scrubbed at the maddening sensation before I could stop myself. Francesca’s eyes were needles on my face, watching the small sign of weakness.
I dropped my fist to my lap and straightened, focusing on the meeting. This would all be mine one day, and I had a lot to learn from my ruthless father. I would be in control, and no one would challenge me. No one would threaten Allie ever again.
My stomach turned. When I thought of the future, the impossibility of keeping the truth from her played at the edges of my mind. How could I hide the reality of my mafia lifestyle from her forever? If I was the head of the family, she’d know.
No worthy man would betray the woman he loves in exchange for power. My grandfather’s rebuke sliced into my soul.
Sweet, innocent Allie would never accept my violent streak. She would never forgive me for using her to blackmail her father.
When I was with her, she looked at me like I was a good man. I was too selfish and addicted to her to shatter that illusion.
I gritted my teeth and shoved my doubts away, focusing on the present moment. Francesca noted the way my jaw ticked, watching for any opportunity to take me down. Hatred rolled off her in icy waves, frosting my skin. She resented my rise to power, and I’d have to watch my back. My sister was conniving and just as cruel as my cousins. She’d always loathed me for allowing the Russians to murder our mother, but the sharp glint in her eyes told me that her hatred had magnified tonight.
She would never hold any real power. Despite the fact that she was older than me, she would never be the heir. She was a woman; Father wouldn’t allow it.
I barely managed to focus on the rest of the meeting, and as my grandfather droned on about our finances, the need to get back to Allie became an itch beneath my skin. Her sweetness was a soothing balm to my most volatile emotions, and I couldn’t wait to cleanse my soul of the rage and residual fear that’d tormented me in the hours since I’d left her.
Father finally dismissed us, and it took effort to slowly get to my feet and stroll toward the door rather than rushing to get out of this hated house, where all my worst nightmares had been born. As always, my mother’s screams seemed to echo through the foyer, emanating from the direction of the kitchen. Her blood had mingled with mine on the white tiles, her final words pleas for my worthless life.
Francesca’s high heels clicked on the hardwood floor, snapping through the memory of our mother’s screams for mercy.
“Max!” she hissed my name. “What did you do?” It was an accusation, not a congratulations.
I kept walking, but she grabbed my forearm, red-lacquered nails digging into my skin. They scored my flesh when I wrenched free, but I barely registered the sting. Her glinting eyes cut far deeper when they lanced my soul.