Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“I haven’t seen you smile like that since the last time we went on a run,” he says, and I stand up straight. He’s studying me with a little smirk like he’s amused that I’m happy and he’s also enjoying the view.
Whatever, he can stare if he wants. I stretch some more. “I like to run. It’s one of the few things I really love, you know?”
“I always thought it was a necessary evil, but you actually enjoy it.”
“It’s hard to explain.” I raise my hands up above my head and sigh as my neck and back crack. “It’s not like it feels good, but it’s more like I can lose myself in the motion. I can be totally in the moment, enjoying the movement of my body, focus on my breath coming in and out, and yeah, I think I like the pain a little bit, too.”
“You like the pain.” His eyebrows arch. “That’s good to know. Most people don’t like pain.”
“It’s a good pain. People are too used to being comfortable all the time, but running reminds me that getting outside of my little bubble can make me stronger.”
“There’s something we can agree on then. Pain makes you stronger.”
“Not too much pain.” I stretch my arms and nod back at the path. “Too much pain and you break. But just the right amount?”
“Goldilocks of pain.”
“Just right.”
“Okay then, flower. Let’s go suffer some more.”
I laugh and chase after him as he gets back into gear. We do a loop around the park and I catch him looking at me more than a few times with a curious gleam in his eye, like he’s studying me and not sure what to think. I don’t let it bother me—let him stare if he wants—and I keep myself focused on the task of moving my body and keeping my muscles relaxed. Sweat beads on my skin and I feel good as we head into a narrow path totally devoid of other people. I barely even notice when two guys step out from behind the trees up ahead.
Luca slows to a stop and grabs my arm. I’m yanked back and yelp a little, surprised by his sudden grip. I turn and I’m about to chew him out for nearly ripping my arm out of its socket when I see the look on his face.
It’s hard and angry and it sends a shiver down my spine.
I follow his gaze. He’s staring at the two guys up ahead in puffer jackets. One’s tall with dark hair and the other’s bald and stocky. I don’t recognize them and I don’t think they look Italian, but it’s hard to tell sometimes. “Stay here,” he says and starts forward.
“Wait, what’s going on?”
“Don’t move.”
But I follow after him anyway. Like hell I’m going to stay behind when this probably involves me, too. The men stare as we approach, their hands in plain view, but I notice Luca’s drifting closer to the trees like he might want to dive behind them if the shooting starts. I stay near him, even though I don’t obey his order to stay since I’m not his lapdog. Although I start to wonder if maybe this was a stupid idea and start looking around for an exit plan.
“Luca Valverde.” The taller man speaks with a slight Russian accent and my blood runs cold. Russians? What the hell are Russians doing here?
“I don’t think we know each other,” Luca says.
“No, we don’t. My name is Yuri and this is my partner, Armen. We were sent to have a conversation with you.”
Luca steps closer to them. The men still don’t move. “You work for the Novalov.”
“That’s right,” Yuri says.
I reach out and grip the closest tree, digging my fingers into the bark. The Novalov Bratva was an ally of my father’s association, and some part of me wondered what they would do now that my family is falling apart. They’d blame the Italians, but I didn’t think they’d try to get revenge, at least not for my poor departed father—someone else would step up and keep supplying them with weed.
Why come out here then? Why approach us like this?
A hundred horrible thoughts rip through my mind, but the worst of all strikes me like lightning.
What if they’re looking to start a new alliance?
If the Russians joins the Italians, then any remnants of my family are finished.
“You’ve been following me.” Not a question, but a statement. Luca’s hands are balled into fists. “I take it your bosses aren’t happy with what happened to the Florakis family.”
“The Florakis were good friends of my boss,” Yuri says and he glances at me. “But we weren’t too upset to hear of their deaths. Truthfully, they were getting a little bit too expensive, and I think we maybe will get better deals without them. This is all about business.”