Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 72340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
“I won’t ask again, what the fuck did he want with her?” I hear Amara’s gasp, but I ignore it—her.
“He…” His voice stops, his heart rate increases and my need to cut out his fucking larynx grows stronger.
“He’s your guy, Luccio, which means you’re responsible for him. Now answer me before I kill you. Believe me, I have given you far more time to answer than I would anyone else.”
“He… There’s a rumor… I don’t know what it is. It’s just this rumor…” His words circle over and over again as he repeats the same thing. A rumor? There is always some type of drama in the industry, I mean it is a form of crime, after all.
“What kind of rumor?” I ask, pressing the blade into his neck. Blood seeps slowly from a thin line I cut across his throat.
“I…” He sounds like he is about to shit or piss himself. I won’t be surprised if both things take place. Still holding the knife against his throat, I release his head and grab the gun from behind my back, aiming it at the side of his head. If he didn’t think I was serious before, he should now.
“Now, what kind of rumor is it we’re talking about?”
“He doesn’t have to die, Enzo. It’s probably nothing…” Amara’s voice is soft and slightly soothing to the raging inferno that is burning within me.
I look up at her, my eyes growing dark. “He does have to die. When I ask a question, he answers, if he doesn’t, he dies. Loose ends get me nowhere. If someone doesn’t have the answers I need, they become useless.”
“They think she’s with someone,” he blurts out as my eyes still linger on Amara.
“What do you mean, I’m with someone?” Amara shoots back. I hold her gaze, my eyes narrowing. Is she with someone? I never asked if she had a steady boyfriend. Jealousy burns inside me, and I would be lying if I said it doesn’t hurt like a fucking bitch.
“I ask the fucking questions,” I growl at her. My attention turns back to Luccio, who is shaking in his boots. He is a pussy. He is supposed to be this big guy who knows all these people, who can kill anyone. It’s all a lie, obviously. His men aren’t even in the room with him. He is a fake.
“I mean… Not with someone. She’s a pig. They think she is anyway.” His words are coming out a little easier, meaning I’m losing my effect. “I sent someone to check her out to protect you. That idiot was not supposed to try and break-in.”
Amara’s face is full of placid rage. “A Pig? Like a cop? I didn’t even know about any of this until I was forced to stay with him—” Her voice cuts off as I shoot her a look that says shut those fucking lips before I shut them myself.
“Who told you that? Who’s working for you, or are you working for someone?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not working for anyone. I work for no one. One of my men told me that someone is working in connection with the FBI.”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. FBI is serious shit. I mean, the shit I do is serious, and I’m not afraid of anyone, but if an FBI agent got in among us, we would be screwed.
“Tell me which man it was. Was it the insider? Or maybe an FBI agent?” I’m no longer going to be patient. People will start fucking falling over dead left and right if I don’t get answers soon.
He laughs gruffly. “The one you fucking killed.” Releasing him with a shove, I walk away. I’m angry—no, I am livid. I need him. I need to know who the pig is if there even is one. Now I have no connections because I acted too soon. Fuck. It’s her fault. My mind is playing games with me. I know it isn’t her fault, but I still want to take my rage out on her.
“You killed another person?” She acts as if she is in shock, but at the same time, wants to scold me for my ill-mannered behavior. Like I’m anything aside from this fucking monster.
“Yes. I did.” I hiss. “And I’ll fucking kill many more, sweetheart, don’t get your panties in a bunch.” I’m crude, and I’m slightly unhinged. Her behavior is not helping.
“You’re digging yourself deeper and deeper,” she murmurs under her breath. She isn’t afraid of me, or at least not at the moment. Moving from my position, I go to sit on the stool near the window. The FBI could be on our asses, and I need to figure out who it is that squealed.
My mind is racing, I should kill them both. That would be the safest bet. Time stands still as I stare deeply into Amara’s eyes. Can I really bring myself to put a bullet in her head? Never to see her body flush with desire? Never to see her beautiful brown eyes full of anger and hate?