Tears Like Acid (Corsican Crime Lord #3) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Corsican Crime Lord Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
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“Yes,” I say. “How’s Mom coping?”

“She’s good. She moved in with Mattie and Jared.”

“Oh my God. How does Jared feel about that?”

“You know Jared. He doesn’t have an opinion about anything.”

“That’s nasty.”

“But true.”

My throat is tight with longing when I ask, “How’s the baby?”

“He’s a handful.” He laughs. “He gives Mattie and Jared a run for their money. That’s one of the reasons why Mom moved in, to give them a hand. It was hard in the beginning, especially when Mattie was suffering from postnatal depression.”

Concern makes me uneasy. “Is she all right?”

“She’s doing better now.”

I look at my husband even as I pose the question at Ryan. “Can you send me a photo?”

Angelo nods.

“Sure,” Ryan says. “What is your new number? Can you send it to me?”

I clear my throat. “You can send it to this phone.”

Ryan’s stifled anger is palpable in the beat of silence that follows.

I don’t sound convincing when I add, “The reception is iffy here.”

“Sure,” he says in a wry tone. “I’ll send our messages to Angelo’s phone.”

My husband holds out his palm in silent instruction.

Not ready to say goodbye, I grip the phone harder. “How’s Colin?”

Angelo clenches his jaw. The violence that darkens his eyes almost makes me falter, but who knows when I’ll have another chance to speak to my family?

Ryan hesitates. “He and May got back together.”

“That’s great,” I say, genuinely happy for them.

“They, um…” Ryan coughs. “They got engaged.”

“Wow.” I can’t help but think about Colin and my disastrous attempt at a wedding and what a big mistake that would’ve been. “Tell them I say congratulations.”

“Sabella,” my husband growls under his breath.

“Tell everyone I love them.” At the narrowing of Angelo’s eyes, I say, “I have to go. It was good to hear your voice.”

“It was good to hear yours too,” Ryan says. “Take care of yourself, Bella.” He adds with a clear message to my husband, “Don’t wait so long before you call again. We worry when we don’t hear from you.”

“Okay,” I say, even if I have no idea if I’ll be able to keep the promise.

Angelo takes the phone and ends the call before slipping the phone in his pocket. His features are set into harsh lines as he picks up his mug. I suppose it’s hard for him to make concessions for the people who murdered his family. It’s tough for me too. But sometimes, I choose to forget. Especially when I’m in my husband’s bed and crying out his surname when I come.

He pushes to his feet, pulling my attention back to him. “I have to go. I already missed my first meeting.”

Blinking, I watch him in a daze as he starts clearing the table. I don’t tell him to leave it, that it’s okay, that I can do it. Because it’s not okay. None of it is. Not knowing when I’ll see my family again leaves an ache in my chest. I’m too apprehensive to ask. I’m too scared it’s a question of if and not when.

When the kitchen is tidy, he walks to the table and stops next to my chair. For a moment, he only looks at me. I can’t read him. I have no way of telling what’s going through his mind. I only know the call with Ryan upset both of us, albeit for different reasons.

Threading his fingers through my hair, he tugs on the strands to tilt my head back. I stare up at him, recognizing the war that wages in his eyes. The cause is unclear, but he doesn’t give me time to ponder it. He swoops down and plants a kiss on my forehead. The tenderness of the gesture catches me off guard, but before I can find my bearings, he’s already walking through the door.

A moment later, the front door slams. The key scrapes in the lock. The engine of his car roars to life. He takes off with screeching tires, driving too fast. I listen to the sound of his car until it fades into nothingness and only silence is left.

It takes me a long time to gather myself and to honor the promise I made this morning. I get up and walk on autopilot to the door. After pulling on my coat and scarf, I leave via the back, lock up, and head to the village.

Mrs. Paoli opens the door dressed in the same pink terrycloth robe and slippers from yesterday. Diva sits at her feet, wagging her tail. Today, she doesn’t bark at me.

“There you are,” Mrs. Paoli says, sniffing as she hands me the leash. “Diva has been waiting in front of the door all morning. Animals are so clever. She knew you’d come back.”

“How are you feeling?”

“A little better, but the flu is strong this year. It knocked poor Mr. Martin down for two weeks. By the way, my friend, Corinne, fell and broke her hip again. Will you be able to help her out with grocery shopping? I mentioned that you’re looking for the odd job when I spoke to her on the phone, and she said the help would be welcome.”


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