Hate Like Honey (Corsican Crime Lord #2) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Corsican Crime Lord Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
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“Hi,” she says, shaking out her blond hair. “Can I come in?” She squints at the gray sky. “It’s rather wet out here.”

I step aside for her to enter. She leaves the umbrella in the stand next to the door and walks to the lounge while I lock up. I take a deep breath before following.

“How did you find me?” I ask. “My address isn’t listed.”

“Student records.”

“Those are confidential.”

“I know someone who owed me a favor. Anyway, for the right price, you can buy any information these days.” Wandering through the room, she looks around. “Nice place.” She stops in front of the sliding doors. “Prime beachfront position. It must cost a pretty penny.”

I cross my arms. “You didn’t come here to discuss my cost of living.”

She turns and cocks a shoulder. “I was just wondering who’s paying for it.” Studying me with piercing attention, she says, “Your brother, I suppose. He took over the business after all.”

Keeping my annoyance in check, I ask, “Is there a purpose to this visit?”

“I’m just saying it must be nice to have a brother who looks out for you.”

“You can afford a place three times this size.”

“With my inheritance money, you mean.” Her lips tilt. “I suppose I could, but I don’t need a place of my own. The mansion in Hout Bay is more than big enough for Mommy and me.”

“I’m sure it is.”

She saunters to the center of the room. “Of all his children, he talked the most about you, you know.”

My heart squeezes.

Picking up a silver statue of an elephant from the coffee table, she studies it. “He loved you very much.”

Miraculously, I manage to keep my voice even. “I know.”

She looks at me, her wise little smile saying she’s not falling for my faked confidence. “Of course, he loved Ryan and Matilde too.” She adds with a wistful air, “He did always tell me I was his favorite. I thought that was sweet.”

Something twists inside me. I can’t help the jealousy that blackens my heart or the betrayal that drives the blade deeper.

“Our time together was always special,” she continues. “We were very close.”

My tone is flat. “I’m happy for you. If there’s nothing else you wanted to tell me, I have to study.”

“He was a great man.” She puts the elephant back in its place. “Daddy will always be my idol. He was an example in every way.”

She doesn’t know about his clandestine business or how he truly died. He kept that part of his life from them too. In a way, I envy her. Ignorance can be bliss. Still, I’ll always choose truth over illusion, and for this, I pity her.

“He said you loved the sea and swimming.” She traces a finger over the back of the sofa as she strolls to the fire pit. “Is that still so?”

I clench my jaw, hating that he discussed me with her when I know nothing about her.

When I don’t reply, she stops to look at me. “You must have questions for me. I sure have a lot for you.”

I do have questions, plenty of them, but the only person who can answer them is dead. I doubt she understands how that feels, how living with not knowing eats a hole into your soul. I want to know why Mom wasn’t enough. I want to know if he felt guilty every time he lied to me or if it simply didn’t bother him. I want to know how many people he killed and if he ever thought about the families they left behind. I want to know when he decided to smuggle arms and why. What swayed him? Was it the money? The power? Was the wealth he already accumulated not enough? The petty part of me wants to know if he really loved Laura and Daisy more. And I want to know if he’d do it again if given another chance. But I’ll never know, will I? That’s the hardest part—accepting to live with all those unanswered questions.

“Well?” she says, raising her hands. “Here am I. So, ask me.”

“What do you really want, Daisy? Why did you truly come here? To rub my face in the affection my dad had for you? Or in the money he left you? In the fact that he was more honest with you than with me? If you came here to find out which one of us was better off, I can assure you it was you.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She pouts. “I just want to get to know you better. There were so many things I always wondered about, and now I can finally get some answers.”

I don’t believe her. She’s not here for a bonding session. “You got your answers. Now please go.”

Not waiting to see if she’s following, I walk to the door and open it.


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