Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 37733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 37733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 189(@200wpm)___ 151(@250wpm)___ 126(@300wpm)
There are warm touches throughout the house. Photographs on the mantel and the walls. Bright pops of color scattered here and there. It's stunning; there's no denying that. But Domani is right. Not even the warm, homey touches hide the fact that this place feels like it has no soul.
There's happiness here. I feel it around us. Even with the tension in the air, the softer emotion still lingers, as if someone just laughed in the room before we walked in. But underneath that, it's…dead. If Rafe's father poured any love into building this place, it died a long time ago.
Mattia raps on a door midway down the hall and then steps aside for us to enter. Domani goes first as if to ensure it's safe for me. He steps inside and looks around before holding his hand out to pull me over the threshold.
I'm too busy looking at all the books scattered on shelves around the room to notice the two men standing beside the massive desk at first. But as soon as my gaze lands on them, wonder turns to worry. They're both grim-faced and silent. They're definitely brothers. They share the same dark features.
But I was wrong earlier. Mattia isn't the hardest man I've ever met. The brother on the right is. He was forged from titanium. He's beautiful. And dark. And I think he may be the most dangerous man I've ever met. He must be Rafe. Which means the other brother—the one who still knows gentleness—is Luca.
"Domani," Luca says.
"Luca."
"Domani," Rafe growls.
"Capo." Domani dips his head, showing respect he hasn't given to anyone else. He's met them as equals. But this man, he meets with a show of deference.
Rafe turns his dark eyes on me. I press closer to Domani as he scours my expression, reading everything that shows on my face. I try to hide it, but he sees right through me. I think he may see clear to my soul. This man is not one to be trifled with.
But I'm not afraid of him. I let him see that, offering it up willingly. He may be the king of kings here, but I no longer bow to anyone. Not now. Not ever again. Not even to this man.
A tiny smile curves his lips up at the corners. Amusement glints deep in his dark eyes. "Hello, principessa. It's nice to finally meet you."
I consider lying to him to be polite, but I think he'd rather choke on the truth than dance with a lie. "Hello, Rafe. I wish I could say the same for you, but this is the last place I want to be right now."
His smile grows. "Honesty. I appreciate that."
"I figured you would."
"Why don't you want to be here, principessa?"
"Finley," Domani murmurs, cautioning me to tread carefully.
"I know a thing or two about leaders, Rafe. My father was one. He knew when to be the hammer and when to be the nail, when to listen and when to speak. Leaders know when to lead…and when to follow. They're capable of both because they're secure in their place. They don't have anything to prove to anyone, and they don't cling to power because they don't need it," I say, holding his gaze.
"But I also know a thing or two about weak men who play at being leaders. I know they're willing to do whatever it takes to ensure no one questions their authority. I know how far they'll go to make themselves look powerful and how much destruction they're willing to leave in their wake. I know this because my uncle is one of those men." I pause. "I'm just not sure which you are."
The amusement fades from Rafe's eyes, but he doesn't say anything. No one else speaks either.
"My husband defied your orders," I murmur into the silence. "He carried me out of my prison and ensured my captor couldn't get his hands on me again, even after you demanded he return. Your rules say you have to punish him for that. But if you're a leader, you make your own rules. So make your own rules, Rafe. Because I'll chain myself in hell before I allow you to kill him. He doesn't die just so I can live. I refuse to accept that."
"That's enough, mio sole," Domani says, placing his hand on my arm. He tugs me backward. "You've said enough. Don't castigate him for doing what he must to protect this family. We've been through battles you don't understand. He makes the choices he does because he has no choice. To do anything else puts everyone at risk."
"And you made the choice you made because you had no choice," I argue, frustrated. "It's always kill or be killed with you guys. There is no compromise, no finding a better way. You cling to old laws and old ways out of tradition even when those old ways no longer serve you. The mafia doesn't change. Irish, Italian, Russian, it doesn't matter. You're all the same, so steeped in tradition you're choking on it. And it'll kill all of you before you even wake up and realize that it's happening."