Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 138(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 138(@300wpm)
"Get me a water and get Tommy transported. Special care. No bruises, but he has to comply. I don't want a scene." Lucy wouldn't like her brother getting banged up or gathering media attention, and I trust Antonio to keep either from happening.
I call Lorenzo. "Wipe Tommy off the books, clean slate, and line up meetings with the other Heads of State, because they're taking him clean with them, too." In some ways, doing mob shit really is just running a business. When it comes to this city, we're the ones who rule it. And having an assistant schedule your meetings isn’t all that different. Lorenzo is an assistant … with a talent for strangling people I want gone, but an assistant nonetheless.
Lorenzo says the affirmative and I hang up. He's gotta be shocked with what's going down and so quickly, but of course he's not going to show it. I never let anyone know every reason why I do something, and this is no different. I keep my enemies and my friends confused, and that’s how I stay safe.
It should be fairly simple to set everything up to save Tommy, really, despite all the money involved. And that means I won't have anything to distract me from Lucy.
However, I do know one particular fuck is going to be a problem—Luke Gravos. He's not just any rich fucker, he's a dirty biker cunt who has zero goddamn class as far as I'm concerned. He wears the suits when he needs to, but he's a dirty fucking biker at heart. Being a rich kingpin spanning plenty of industries and supply chains ... he's not going to take lightly the notion that I'm looking to make a bargain with nothing much in it for his ass. I mean, there are things I can offer, but I know how he thinks. The honor behind it and the value behind it for me, that's whats going to set him off. I dial his number now, praying for voicemail. Surely he's burying his dick in something too dirty to come to the phone right now, and he'll appreciate that I made the effort to reach out and I'll deal with his scummy ass tomorrow.
The phone rings three times and I'm thanking my lucky stars.
"Y'llo?" the fucker picks up.
I grit my teeth but take care to relax my mouth before I respond. "We need to come to terms on something you won't like.” I make a swift turn for the camera room—not the one the regular guards use, but the one I have on a panel that takes me to the cameras for the penthouse. "We'll make it easier for you to like.”
I want to turn on the cameras right now.
Luke's breathing on the other line. He wants me to listen to him take his time, because he knows me calling him like that puts me in a position where I need to make him happy.
I figure I'll go ahead and turn those cameras on without sound. I can at least look at her. She'll be in there, soon. My cock jerks in my trousers, so fucking ready to see her. Soon, to hear her and feel her.
"Yuh, tomorrow, four, your place. Square?" Luke sounds to be in a better mood. Distracted, even. That could work to my advantage. If he's already got shit on his plate, then maybe I'll close this deal we'll have to make faster than I expected.
"Four's solid. Thanks," I say. I'm fucking grateful. I hang up and look at the cameras.
She's stepping inside, tentatively. Lucy doesn't know I'm watching her, so she's not putting on a brave front. I can see she's fucking terrified. Her body is practically trembling, but when she uses the key on the door, she's making use of a few deep breaths to steel herself.
Breathe, baby girl. I'm going to take such good care of you.
Of course, she's starting to get a little less tense, but then it rises again. This is a lot to take. Seeing her in this kind of distress makes me want to reach for a glass, but I'd rather take a drink of her than down the bottom of a bottle. I groan. Lucy is walking around the rooms. She sits on the couch. Then the bed. She can't seem to decide what to do. It's pretty clear that if she's up to something devious, she hasn't actually worked up the nerve to do it. But, really, she just doesn't know what to with herself. Lucy already laid all her cards on the table.
She's a caged animal. And I'm a sick fucker because that gets my cock rock hard.
This is the best I can hope for—Lucy will never want me because of me, she's going to enjoy me despite herself. It turns my stomach to be such a pig, but I push that down just like I push down every fiery crackle inside me until my soul is cinder and ash.