Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
I look to my father who doesn’t meet my gaze. “Papa?” My voice is barely a whisper, but he doesn’t lift his face to look at me. Guilt creases his expression, but he only offers me a nod. “So, this is goodbye?” I infuse anger into my tone, which finally forces him to glance up.
“Tesoro,” he pleads, and this time, he comes to me, and his hands grip my shoulders. “Forgive me,” he begs.
Deep down, my gut churns, knowing this will be the last time I see my father. Because the moment he reaches out to the families, he’ll be a dead man.
He won’t be able to go back to the mafia.
They won’t forgive him.
There are rules within the organisations—omertà means more to those men than anything else. Loyalty is something they value, and if you’re unable to offer them that, you don’t live.
“Goodbye, Papa,” I whisper past the lump in my throat.
My eyes burn with unshed tears, but I don’t allow them to fall before I turn away from him. He’s taught me a lot in my short life, but the one thing that’s always stood out is to be strong.
Faced with adversity and heartache, showing your weakness can be the fine line between life and death. I make my way to where Judah is standing and stop when I’m inches from him.
Tipping my head back to meet his questioning gaze. I take in the arched brow and the tilt of his lips that I’m guessing are perpetually shaped as if he’s both annoyed and amused at the world.
“Hamilton, I will contact you soon as I have paperwork for you to complete,” Judah addresses the old man. “I’ll be in touch.” That’s all he says before he saunters out as if he owns everything he touches.
He’s clearly used to getting what he wants. Confidence oozes from him, but also, there’s a hint of danger that reminds me he’s not a random, cute guy from school, he’s the soon-to-be Boss of the Venier family.
I follow behind, not turning to look at my father. Instead, I step out onto the pavement where there’s a black limo waiting.
The driver opens the door, and ushers me inside before Judah slips in beside me. The drive is quiet, with Judah on his phone for most of it. While he taps away on the screen, I steal moments to look at him, to really take him in. I know he’s almost twenty-five, his birthday being three months from now, which is why the contract had come into effect.
He’s focused on whatever is on the screen, so I shift my eyes over his long legs that are splayed out in front of him as he stretches the length of the back of the car. His black trousers seem to hug his powerful thighs in a way that makes my stomach somersault.
I don’t want to be attracted to him, but if I must marry him, then I should at least feel something for him. Shouldn’t I?
“If you keep staring at me like a little whore needing cock, I’m going to think you actually want to marry me,” he murmurs across the space, his words tangling in my mind as they slowly twist around my heart and tighten until I can’t breathe.
Anger rushes through me at his words. “Fuck you,” I bite out, my hands fisting at my sides, which catches his attention. Fire blazes in those seemingly haunting eyes as he watches my reaction. “I’m no whore. Your father was a conniving bastard who thought he could rule our lives with a piece of scrap paper.”
I shouldn’t anger the monster, but my words hit home. He moves swiftly, and seconds later, he’s right beside me, his fingers holding my jaw in a painful, vice-like grip. Judah leans in close, his warm breath fanning over me, causing desire and hatred to swirl together in a strange whirlpool inside me.
“If you ever speak of my father like that again,” he hisses, his voice a low, menacing drawl, “I’ll bend you over, expose your pretty arse, and I’ll whip you so hard, you won’t be able to sit down for days.”
“I won’t apologise for speaking the truth,” I grit out through clenched teeth, locking my defiant gaze on his as the corners of his mouth tilt into a wolfish, sadistic smile.
Fear skitters down my spine. My breathing is shallow, my lungs struggling to work as his cologne captures my attention. He smells of warm leather and tobacco, a deeply masculine scent. And soon, all I see, all I smell, and all I feel is Judah fucking Venier.
“Don’t fuck with me, little whore,” he whispers close to my cheek, his tongue darting out to lap at my skin. It should make me cringe, but it does the complete fucking opposite. It makes my blood run hot through my veins. “I’m not one of those schoolboys you’re used to,” he informs me in a violent grunt. “I’m a man. And I will, most certainly, make you cry.”