Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
It’s definitely the men from the PI’s documents.
But one of them in particular catches my attention.
And not just because he’s definitely the guy on the picture this PI took for me.
A man about twelve years older than me, with eyes as black as coals, dark, slick hair, and a chiseled chin with a sharply cut beard, but an even sharper looking blade glinting beneath his belt buckle.
And he’s looking straight back at me.
Marcello
I’ve never stared at anyone in particular with anything more than mild interest.
Until this girl.
With her marvelous green eyes and long, blond hair, this simple waitress captures my attention and refuses to let go.
The moment our eyes connect it feels like there is a world of opportunities just waiting to be grasped. The way she stands there, clutching her tray while staring me down as much as I do her.
She simply takes my breath away.
She swallows, goose bumps erupting on her skin.
And I can’t help but wonder what goes on in her mind.
If she thinks about all the ways I could make her blush just by looking at her with these eyes … just licking her with this filthy mouth of mine.
Right now, I want nothing more than to know her name.
Then she blinks, and the moment passes as she looks away and scurries off, handing new drinks to other customers.
My eyes narrow as I watch her laugh and smile at them, jealousy stinging at my heart.
I don’t want this girl to wait on anyone else but me.
But I shouldn’t let my desires get ahead of me.
After all, I’m here for business.
And that business better hurry the fuck up before I lose my temper.
Harper
Not in a million years has a guy ever looked at me like that.
Nor have I ever been so stunned by the sheer power exuded from his eyes.
Or the amount of lust emanating from deep within my body.
Fuck.
Who was that man?
And why was he carrying around a weapon?
I close my eyes and take a breather for a second.
It’s not every day you get this close to dancing with the devil.
But all I see in front of me, even with my eyes fully shut, is him and all the the danger he entails. Those strong hands, that dirty, smug grin, and those dark eyes bore straight into my soul.
I shake my head, but I still can’t get him out of my mind. Just the look he gave me brings goose bumps to my skin when I think of it.
But I can’t let myself get carried away here. I have a job to do, and that job is to find out more about them without getting caught.
As I wait on more tables, serving snacks and drinks to almost every patron in the club, I sneak glances at him, but the brooding one doesn’t move an inch.
After hours of waiting, hoping to catch a glimpse of the man doing anything interesting, I go on my break and walk back to the locker rooms. I sit down and sigh in annoyance. I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. Following dangerous criminal-looking men into the dark of the night; there’s nothing scarier.
I should let someone know what I’m doing in case things go really bad. I grab my phone and call my adoptive mother, Andrea. “Hey,” I say when she picks up. “It’s me.”
“Oh, Harper! So nice of you to call. It’s late, though, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Wait, you’re usually asleep now, aren’t you? Did I wake you?”
“Oh, no, no heavens no.” She giggles. “I was playing Scrabble online with some friends.”
“Scrabble? You really have to ease up on that social life of yours,” I joke.
“Of course you’d say that. You’re out and about every night you can,” she teases. “Anyway, why’d you call, sweetheart?”
“Oh, um …” I pause. I don’t know what to tell her, and I don’t want her to worry about me. “I’m at a club. Missed you, thought I’d check in.”
“A club? Really?” she says. “That’s unlike you.”
“A new job,” I lie.
I never lie to her. Why am I so afraid to tell the truth?
“A job? This late? Why? Aren’t you happy with your current one?”
“Of course I am, but I … wanted to earn something extra.” I shift on the bench to a more comfortable position.
“That doesn’t sound like you, either,” she says. “You’re not going out and doing something dangerous again, are you?”
“What? I never—”
“Don’t give me that nonsense,” she interjects. “I know you’re obsessed with finding out more about that night.”
Of course, she’d see straight through me. “You know it’s important to me.”
“Sweetheart, I know your parents’ death was hard on you, and it’s okay to be upset. But you’ve got to stop. You’re losing yourself in this search for answers.”
“I’m close, Andrea. I just know it.”
“You say that every time, yet—”
“No, this time is different,” I interrupt. “There’s a man here that my PI found. He’s connected to the fire.”