Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“How the fuck will we do that?” I asked, raising my voice. “The mob’s trying to whack them, too.”
“By beating the mob to it,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with determination. “We take out our wannabe killers? We get the respect we’ve been looking for. There’s something else that makes me want to work with the Roselli family.”
“Let me guess,” Matteo suggested, his tone lazy. “Piper.”
“Yeah.”
And there it was.
For once, Mr. Ice Cold allowed me and Matteo to peek into his brain. How? By hanging his head and completely avoiding eye contact with us. Only he had done that for the wrong reason. Because I had something to say about this girl, too.
“The mob might try to get rid of her, just because she did her job when I got shot,” I reminded him. “Whichever way you cut it, that’s not fair.”
“It’s more than that, Leonardo,” Cesare claimed, shifting his gaze up to look at me. “There was something going on between us. It didn’t last for a number of reasons, but we did go out twice.”
Matteo’s lips curled into a smug smile as I stared at my friend with my mouth partially open. “I suspected as much. I’m going to be honest, too. I tried to fool around with her once. We kissed, but I didn’t let things get out of control. Like I said, I’d been suspecting she fooled around with you, Cesare. I didn’t want to steal her from you, man.”
“Well, you didn’t,” Cesare pointed out. “It’s okay. I didn’t pursue her. She was free to fool around with anyone she wanted.”
“Holy shit,” I whispered, unable to even speak up. Those two hadn’t just shared stuff. They had hit me with a fucking hammer, the size of their heads.
“Leonardo, what’s wrong?”
“Every fucking thing,” I grumbled, as I realized that our decades-long friendship might be on the verge on imploding.
“You…?”
“Fucked her?” I finished Cesare’s question for him. “Yeah. I didn’t know about you two, though. Right hand to god, I didn’t know shit. If I did, I wouldn't have touched her.”
“Damn it,” Cesare sighed, tearing his gaze away from me. Matteo cupped his chin, wearing an odd smile that had me puzzled.
“Am I amusing you or something?” I asked in a loud voice.
“We,” he corrected me. “We are amusing me. I mean, that girl’s been screwing around with all three of us for weeks, and we’re just finding out about it. Not from her—from one of us.”
"She shouldn’t have done that,” Cesare shared his opinion while I tapped my shoe on his floor. Unlike him, I wasn’t good at hiding what I felt. “She shouldn’t have come anywhere near you. When you date someone, you don’t date his friends, even after things don’t work out between you two. That’s the code.”
“I don’t think women have that same code,” Matteo interjected. “When I told her about it, she stared at me like I was speaking Chinese. I know I shouldn’t have kissed her and I’m sorry. I was weak.”
“I’m not going to hold it against you, man,” Cesare said, before setting his gaze on me. “You? You should have been paying attention. You should have known I’d had a fling with her and backed off.”
“How the fuck could I have known?” I asked him, furrowing my brow. “Ask my fucking magic eight-ball? I’m not regretting shit, man. You can be pissed all you like. I’m not going to say I’m sorry, because I’m not.”
“To be fair, I ran into Piper outside your building a while back,” Matteo spoke, tension speeding up his voice. “That’s how I suspected there was something going on between you two. Leonardo couldn’t have known—that’s the truth.”
“Maybe, but we still have to talk to Piper,” Cesare argued, a knock on his door not allowing him to say anything more.
Up until that point, I believed that the biggest surprise of the night was his decision to work with Maggie Owens-Roselli’s crew.
I was wrong.
The one who’d knocked was none other than the head of that family. She looked like a million dollars as usual, dressed in a fancy, purplish dress, high heels and a white coat thrown over her back. The only thing missing was her signature polite smile. The sullen look in her eyes and her dead-serious expression could speak volumes. This time, she was in no mood for a casual conversation. She meant business…
“Good evening, everybody,” she greeted us by tipping her head down, her quick footsteps sending her to the middle of the living room. “Thank you for the invite, Mr. Borelli. I really want to believe you thought about my proposal and your answer is ‘yes.’ Please, don’t let me down.”
“It is,” Cesare said, passing her by. “Fair warning, though. If one of your boys steps out of line, I won’t think twice about shooting him. Are we clear?”