Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 36839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36839 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 184(@200wpm)___ 147(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
"Does adulting ever get easier?" I ask Ceres.
His loud laughter echoes down the line. "Fuck no, baby sister. The shit just gets harder from here."
"I was afraid you were going to say that," I groan. "This is for the birds."
"Who you telling? Just wait until you're my age and you suffer for a goddamn week every time you even think about sleeping wrong or exercising or carrying something heavy."
"You aren't that old," I say through laughter.
"Mind telling my neck and back that because they did not get the memo?"
I flip my blinker on as Diego whips into the right lane ahead and then immediately crosses into the lane exiting the interstate. I have to slam on the brakes to exit behind him.
"Jerk," I mutter, certain he did that on purpose just to irritate me.
"Hey, now," Ceres protests.
"Not you. The guy I'm tailing. He's driving like a jerk to annoy me."
Silence sounds down the line. I flick my gaze to the screen to make sure we weren't disconnected.
"Ceres?"
"He knows you're following him?" he growls. "What the fuck, Athena?"
"Calm your tatas, Cranky." I roll my eyes. "I'm not going to try to weasel my way into the confidences of a mafia member. I'm not trying to disappear without a trace." I'm just going to make a nuisance of myself until he gets sick of me and agrees to help fill in some blanks.
So far as plans go, it's a terrible one. But Diego's too insulated, too untrusting, and too smart to be easily fooled. Why bother trying when the most likely outcome doesn't bode well for me?
"Jesus H. Christ. You're tailing a member of the mafia?" Ceres growls.
Well, crap. I probably shouldn't have said that.
"Technically their lawyer." It's partially true. He is their lawyer. He just also happens to be one of them.
The distinction doesn't seem to help much. Ceres breaks into a litany of curses. "I'm coming out there."
"You absolutely are not coming out here!" I glare at the screen as if he can see me. "This is my job, Ceres. I don't interfere with yours. You need to butt out and let me do mine."
"I'm telling Ma."
"I'll tell her what really happened in South America," I warn, fighting fire with fire.
He growls, knowing he can't win this particular war. His job is far more dangerous than mine, and he's hidden a whole lot of it from our mom. She has no idea how many times we've almost lost him because I've kept his secrets. It's his turn to keep one for me.
"If anything happens to you, I'll take down the mafia myself," he swears, making me smile. I think if anyone were stubborn enough to do it out of pure spite, it might just be my brother.
But I don't need him to protect me. And I won't need him to follow through on his threat. Diego's going to tell me what I want to know. Even if I have to haunt him every waking hour until he does.
Chapter Three
Diego
"We're taking a step back."
I stare at Rafe across the antique dining room table, not sure what the fuck that means. The ornate chandelier overhead spills light down over us, but the room is so fucking big, it does nothing to chase away the shadows clinging to the furthest corners. "A step back from what?"
"Everything."
Coda and Domani, normally stoic, grim motherfuckers, share a look that lets me know they don't know what he's talking about, either. Even Mattia, the unflappable, cool as a cucumber consigliere, seems caught off guard by his best friend's after-dinner announcement.
Amalia, Callandria, and Genesis, Gabriel's wife, excused themselves from the dining room a few minutes ago to give us time to talk. I guess they knew what was coming. Luca and Gabriel certainly don't seem surprised. For once, they're a united front, perfectly in sync with their older brother.
"You're going to have to explain it like I'm five," I growl. "Because I still don't know what the fuck you're talking about."
"He's talking about the four of you stepping up as the face of this family while we play puppet masters," Gabriel says, an amused glimmer in his eyes as if he finds this shit funny. Hell, maybe he does. There's no telling with him.
"Puppet masters?" Rafe frowns at his youngest brother, his dark brows pulled down into a severe line.
Gabe just shrugs, unrepentant. His leather bomber jacker and dark jeans fit his devil-may-care attitude. He's the only one of the brothers who doesn't dress like mafia. Doesn't act like it, either.
Rafe sighs, choosing to ignore him. I think Gabriel fucks with Rafe just because he can. He's been doing it for as long as I've known them. None of the brothers particularly relish being responsible for the Valentino empire, but Gabe hates it more than most. In ways, there's more darkness in him than in his brothers, but this way of life suits him less than Rafe and Luca.