Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“Can we also just talk about how you shot Crue?” she whispers so the guards don’t hear us and then takes a huge bite of her burger. “You are one crazy bitch.” She places the burger down and then applauds while she chews.
All I can do is smirk.
CHAPTER 59
Crue
“What did you expect?” my mother says, sitting across from me on the plane.
“Mother.”
“No, Crue, what did you expect, really?”
I grind my teeth and remember to not kill my own fucking mother.
She needs to live.
But then again, what for?
“Don’t give me that look, boy. Those businesses have been in the Monti family for six generations, and I will not let you be the first generation where it falls. You will marry before you turn thirty-four.”
“I know this.”
“Then get over yourself and figure it out.”
“Why do you think I’m on a private jet back to Italy, Mother?”
“Because all your years in New York are for naught, and you’re returning needing a bride in less than three months. That’s why. You’ve left it too long.”
I grit my teeth. I had forced myself to stay away from Rya for that long, vowing I would give her freedom until she turned thirty. But now, for the first time ever, I wasn’t so sure about the card I played.
I thought… Well, frankly, I don’t know what I thought.
Any woman would be blessed to have been looked upon by me twice. Let alone an offer of marriage for convenience. But it was more than that with Rya. I rub my leg. Well, I sure as shit was mistaken to think it was more than that.
There’s nothing more abundantly clear than your bride shooting you so she can escape and run out of the chapel.
“The families are going to be in such a fuss when you come back unmarried. Had your father been here, he wouldn’t have let any of this happen.”
“For fuck’s sake, Mother,” I say, standing and pulling out my gun. Her mouth snaps shut. “Fuck!” I scream, pissed off that I pulled my gun on my own mother. “I told you not to mention him in front of me. Or Rya, for that matter. Do we understand one another?”
A scowl mars her expression as she pouts.
Had my father been here? For fuck’s sake!
There’s no point in telling her about that little hit he had once put out on her because I cleaned it up before she’d ever been the wiser. As I always did. As was my responsibility.
Like now.
I had to marry.
And I would find a wife.
My jaw grinds as I take a seat. “And besides, I’ve increased the family’s profits by thirty percent since being in New York. I doubt they can complain about that.”
She picks up the romance novel she was reading and looks it over. She’s good at that. Looking down her nose at me to have the last word. “They will complain, and you know it. It’s not enough. This is tradition, and tradition is everything to the families.”
“Maybe I’ll return and kill them all. I’ve become good at wiping out families lately.”
“Watch your mouth,” she hisses.
I roll my eyes and press the tip of the gun to my own head as I lean back in the seat. Kill me now. I might not make it through this flight with my mother’s tongue lashing me the entire way.
But the truth is, I have already started putting a plan into action. I am going back to Italy out of necessity. There’s a little package I need to collect to end this marriage discussion once and for all.
CHAPTER 60
Rya
Four weeks crawl by and I am suffocating.
I think about him way too often for my liking.
I managed to change the locks on my apartment in hopes that he wouldn’t be able to break in again while secretly missing him.
It’s a hard pill to swallow—to want someone but also to not want them at all. To come to the realization that he’d inserted himself so deeply into my life that I now feel lost without his overbearing presence.
What my life would be like with him is not something I will willingly choose.
So why would I make an exception for him?
I shouldn’t and wouldn’t.
Angel let me know she had the baby and sent me photographs. I sent her flowers and gifts. Weeks go by, and I hardly hear from her, but that’s to be expected, considering Angel’s a new mother.
I returned to work two weeks ago and accepted my new role, but it doesn’t feel as rewarding as I thought it would.
“We’re getting you out of your slump and going to Italy,” my mother says as I sit across from her in my kitchen, having a cup of tea.
“I can’t just up and leave.” It seems strange that my mother wants to return there since she’d sworn she never would. Sure, she mentioned it like a month ago, but I’d already told her no.