Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Uncle Enzo stands. “You may not want to be reminded of the facts, but your father was our brother, and we know what he would’ve done in your position. What he would’ve wanted. He’d never take a risk. If there was the slightest chance of betrayal, he would’ve killed that spark long before it had a chance of kindling a flame. You and I both know that the most logical, safest decision is to get rid of her.”
Fury boils the blood in my veins. I’m about to reach over the table and grab him by the throat when I notice a movement in the doorframe.
Sabella.
She’s as pale as a ghost, supporting herself with a hand on the wall.
Fuck.
The men turn their heads in the direction of my gaze. Silence stretches as they look at her, branding her as guilty for nothing but standing there, for hearing something she shouldn’t have.
“I—” She swallows. “Heidi sent me to ask if you want coffee.”
“No,” I say, my tone harsh. “They’re leaving.”
Uncle Nico puts his glass on the table and gets up with a sneer. “Good night, Angelo. Congratulations again.” He doesn’t look at Sabella as he walks from the room.
Uncle Enzo follows his twin’s example. Toma and Gianni push to their feet, stealing uncertain glances at me before leaving without saying a word.
Sabella folds her arms behind her back and leans on the wall, watching me quietly. I want to pick up my glass and down what’s left of my drink, but I don’t. I’m volatile enough as it is. My uncles questioned my authority, and even though I’m respectful of their age, I’ll have to put them back in their place lest I lose mine in the hierarchy. Because if I do, God knows, I won’t be able to keep Sabella safe.
Her voice is soft, her question loaded. “So, are you?”
“Am I what?”
“Are you going to kill me when I’ve served my purpose?”
On second thought, I grab that drink and swallow it down in one go. I school my features before I look at her, keeping my expression devoid of emotions. I can’t show her the turmoil in my chest. “Only if I have to, so make sure you don’t give me a reason.”
She digests the statement, taking a second to let it sink in. Then she turns on her heel and flees from the room.
That’s all right.
I let her run.
There’s nowhere in this house she can hide.
Chapter
Thirty-Three
Sabella
* * *
The thought of Angelo killing me has crossed my mind. Many times. I of all people know what he’s capable of. He never wanted me for me. He only needed my family name. Now that he has that, he’s going to make the best use of it he can. He won’t waste a minute in securing business ties. He may not kill me soon, but that doesn’t mean he won’t do it one day. Or that he won’t do it in a fit of temper. I have to tread lightly around him. I can’t lower my guard. Not for a second.
Wariness weighs me down as I walk down the long hallway toward the kitchen. I can’t help but glance over my shoulder as a shiver runs down my spine. The house is voluminous and basked in soft light, but the ambiance is dark. Despite the tasteful furniture and decorations, it feels empty and hollow, as if something is missing.
I quicken my steps, the echo of my soles chasing after me until I burst into the brightly lit kitchen where Heidi is loading the dishwasher. The housekeeper can’t protect me, not against the master of the house, but I do feel better for another human being’s presence, especially one who’s friendly and kind.
“They don’t want coffee,” I say, trying to keep my voice normal and not let her hear how scared I am. I can’t afford to let anyone suspect that I’m anything less than confident and strong.
She straightens with a smile. “Well, then.” After drying her hands on a kitchen towel, she drops it on the counter. “Why don’t I show you to your room?”
“I’ll help you tidy up first.”
“Nonsense.” She marches out ahead of me, her blond braid swinging between her shoulder blades. “You had an eventful time with the wedding, not to mention a long day of traveling.” She glances over her shoulder. “Of course, it’s your house, and you’re free to do whatever you like. I’m sure you have lots of instructions for me. We can talk about that tomorrow when you’re rested.” In the stillness of the house, our steps sound loud on the polished yellow stone floor. “We can start with the menu for the week if you like, unless you prefer to do your own cooking like the late Mrs. Russo.” We go up a staircase with a red carpet runner. “You don’t have to worry. I’m a fast learner.” She stops on the landing. “I’m good at mastering new recipes.”