Love Like Poison (Corsican Crime Lord #1) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Mafia, Suspense, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Corsican Crime Lord Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 90260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 361(@250wpm)___ 301(@300wpm)
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I lie awake for most of the night, finding comfort in petting Pirate. When dawn breaks, I send Colin a message to say I’m not going class. He asks if I’m sick, so I think up another lie and tell him I’m having my period. The cramps and headaches are often so bad that Mom lets me stay at home instead of going to school. It’s a feasible excuse.

Dad has already left for the office by the time I go downstairs. Mom isn’t surprised when I tell her I’m not going to class. She meets the news with an uncharacteristically indifferent attitude.

I’m not hungry, but I force myself to eat peanut butter and banana toast. Then I pull on my bathing suit, grab my beach bag, and slip past Mattie who’s having her breakfast on the veranda while talking to Jared on the phone. She’s no doubt updating him on yesterday’s events, telling him what I’ve done. The way everyone is tiptoeing around me only makes my guilt worse. I feel dumb and humiliated. Awful. I just have to get out of the house.

I use the footpath to climb down the dune and jog to the beach. It’s peak holiday season, but the nearest umbrellas are planted on the other side of the lagoon. Thanks to being private, our beach is always quiet.

Grateful for not having to face people, I leave my bag in the cave and take out Angelo’s phone. There are two new messages, one from last night and one from this morning. I delete them without reading either. I should’ve told Dad about the phone, but I couldn’t bring myself to hurt him more than I already have.

I drop the phone in the bag with the underwater camera that I clip to a utility belt around my waist and step out into the sun. The heavy ring on my thumb catches the light. I grit my teeth as I look at it, wishing I could throw it into the sea, but Angelo said he’d know if I’m not wearing it. His threat is still too fresh in my mind. The seriousness of his actions told me he wasn’t joking. He wouldn’t think twice about branding me like an animal. How could I have been so wrong about him? I must be a bad judge of character. Like Dad warned me, Angelo isn’t the man I thought he was.

Is Roch here now, watching me? I look around as a shiver crawls down my spine. The dunes and the beach are deserted. I should’ve told Dad and Ryan about that too, but I don’t want to spook them unnecessarily. I’ve done enough damage. Surely, now that Angelo got what he wanted, he’ll leave me alone. I’ll wait a few weeks and do a test by going to town without wearing the ring. If nothing happens, I’ll throw it in the trash. For now, there’s no one here to witness my actions.

With that thought somewhat soothing me, I take the ring off and chuck it inside the cave. It’s a pity there’s no one around to steal it. From time to time, people cross the river at low tide and walk along the beach toward Glentana. Whenever that happens, Mom calls the police and lodges complaints of trespassing. Sometimes, youngsters from the island drive their jet skis and motorboats up and down the surf of our beach just to piss her off.

Today, the sea is flat and quiet. I walk in, embracing the coolness, and dive under the waves until I reach the swell. From there, I swim with strong breaststrokes deeper into the sea.

Despite the stillness of the water, the currents running under the surface are strong. They’re especially treacherous where the river runs into the sea. Almost every year, an unsuspecting holidaymaker drowns here. Since the lagoon became popular with day visitors as well as people camping in the nearby caravan park, the municipality put lifeguards in place. That doesn’t prevent the tragic accidents from happening every summer.

I swim until my arms ache and my legs cramp. It’s too far. I know it. But I want to punish myself. I want to purge myself of Angelo Russo. I never want to hear his name or see his face again, not in my thoughts or in my dreams.

When I’m too tired and too cold, I drift on my back for a while. From this distance, our house is a small white beacon on a green hill, framed by a sandy dune. The colorful umbrellas and towels on the left are pinpoints on the pearly sand. I fit the new scuba mask Colin gave me, suck in a lungful of air, and sink under the water, but I find no joy in the quietness today.

A school of sardines torpedoes past on my left, their movements staccato and synchronized. They change direction, heading like one body toward the beach. When they behave like this, it’s because they have a predator on their tail. Maybe it’s a tuna or swordfish. I turn in a circle under the water, and then I see it. Not even five meters away, a great white shark of at least ten meters glides through the water. I’ve never seen such a big one, and never in the sea. My only acquaintance with great whites was at the aquarium.


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