Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
When he closes the door, I escort Lyriope back to the front of the shop so we can wait. “See? Simple.”
“You woke the man up!”
“I’m about to pay his monthly expenses for two scoops of gelato. I don’t think he minds,” I say as I lead us to a small iron bench to the right of the door. “Sometimes you have to ask for what you want.”
“You didn’t ask, you demanded.”
“Well… sometimes you have to demand as well.”
The door finally opens, and the shop owner is welcoming us with a smile. A woman, who I assume is his wife, is also inside at the counter. She’s in a robe with disheveled hair, but also greeting us with a smile as we enter the small gelato shop.
“I made it all fresh yesterday,” the man says, as he’s pulling out the large containers of gelato. “It’s a recipe that has been passed down from generation to generation. I was taught how to do this as a young boy.” Although his accent is thick, and not every single English word comes out clearly, it’s still easy to understand the man.
“I was told that you had the best in all of Italy,” Lyriope says as she approaches the glass counter and peers inside to decide what flavor she wants. “I’m really sorry to have disturbed you.” She gives me a side eye, but she can’t hide the glee in her eyes at being able to do this at such an hour.
“No problem at all,” the wife says as she anxiously awaits us to come and pay for the gelato so she can return to her slumber. Her accent is so thick that I’m not sure if she’d be able to actually have a full English conversation.
“Limone,” Lyriope finally says once she’s decided on a flavor.
“Pistachio,” I say as I walk over to the wife and hand her the entire contents of my money clip. I’m not sure how much money is in it, but no doubt it will have made this worth the couple’s time.
I don’t want to hold the old man and his wife any longer, so rather than eating the gelato in the shop, I lead Lyriope outside to the bench that we had sat on while we waited.
“Thank you,” Lyriope says as she licks the edges of her cone. She looks up at me and locks eyes with mine. “You didn’t have to do this, but now that I have it… thank you.”
I give her a nod, happy she’s so pleased.
We sit in silence for several moments as we eat, listening to the sound of the river flowing next to us, and looking up at the starry sky. It’s simple. It’s peaceful. It’s just the two of us in an insane world so full of mayhem, destruction, and sinister plans and thoughts. But right now. It’s calm. Right now, it is just us alone.
“So I have a question,” Lyriope says. “Why do the Morellis and the Constantines hate each other so much?”
I sigh. “I think book after book could be written to describe their family war. In all honesty, I don’t know. But did we know why Romeo and Juliet’s families hated each other truly? Sometimes hate simply exists no matter what happens, no matter what bridges are formed, no matter what truces are made. Hate is an emotion that can never truly vanish.”
“Why do you think the Constantines came after me? To kill me?”
Shaking my head, I answer, “I don’t think they’d kill you.” I pause to consider that thought. “Maybe threaten to? Maybe. But I think they simply want you as a tool. As a dangling taunt to Bryant. I think they just wanted to fuck with him, and still do.”
“So you don’t think my life is in danger?” She licks her gelato, and it’s hard not to want that tongue licking my cock.
Looking away to be able to focus on the conversation, I say, “I think tempers make people do foolish things. I think that the Morellis could push the Constantines to a point where they act without thinking. In fact, I think anyone could be pushed by the Morellis and do something just to prove to Bryant and his spawn that they are not the all powerful. This is not their kingdom, and we will not all bow down to them. I think that you—in a way—represent the fact that the Morellis can’t control everything. Their threats and pumping of their chests don’t work on everyone.”
“Like you,” she says. “You don’t seem afraid of anyone.”
“I’m not. I let go of fear a long time ago.”
“But you went to their party. You invited them to Wonderland.”
“I respect them. I’ve had a long-time working relationship with them. But I have never seen them as ruling over me. As better than me. I don’t take orders from Bryant, from a single Constantine, or from anyone else. There is one person in my kingdom, and that is me.” I toss the rest of my gelato into the garbage can, having enough of the sweet. “I work with people. Never for.”