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
Advertisement1

Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
<<<<475765666768697787>97
Advertisement2


“My goodness,” Mrs. Paoli says. “Isn’t this one of the Russo broods?”

“This is Sophie.” I add with emphasis, “My niece-in-law.”

“My goodness,” Mrs. Paoli says again. “What is she doing with you?”

I smile at Sophie. “She’s staying with me for a while.”

Mrs. Paoli places a hand over her heart. “Is that convenient for you?”

“Absolutely.” My smile stretches. “Sophie wanted to come with me today. Can I introduce her to Diva?”

“Oh.” Mrs. Paoli clutches the dog even tighter. She only loosens her hold when Diva yelps. “I suppose so. She looks…” She lifts her gaze from Sophie to me and mouths, “Clean.”

“Here.” I gently pull Sophie out from behind me. “Offer Diva your palm like this.” I show her how. “Let her sniff you. It’s how dogs get to know humans. It’ll reassure her that you’re not going to hurt her.”

Sophie takes a hesitant step forward. She stretches out her little arm, offering her hand, but at the last minute, she snatches it away as her courage fails her.

“She won’t bite, dear,” Mrs. Paoli says. “My Diva has never bitten anyone in her life.”

Sophie tilts her face up to me.

“Go ahead,” I say with an encouraging nod. “Shall we do it together?”

When Sophie nods, I take her hand and let Diva sniff it. Sophie jerks away again when the dog licks her fingers.

“That’s her way of giving you a kiss,” I say.

A radiant smile splits the little girl’s face, making my chest ache with tenderness.

“She kissed me, Sabella,” Sophie says in a soft voice.

I exchange a look with Mrs. Paoli. “Yes, she did, sweetheart.”

“She likes you,” Mrs. Paoli says.

“You see?” Sophie whispers to the doll. “I told you not to be scared.”

Mrs. Paoli hands me the leash before setting Diva on the floor. “Are you walking Diva with Sabella today?”

“Yes,” Sophie says, standing taller. “Can I hold the leash, Sabella?”

“Only if Mrs. Paoli agrees,” I say. “And you first have to practice in a clear area where there’s no traffic.”

“Can I, Mrs. Paoli?” Sophie asks. “Please?”

“I trust you, my dear,” Mrs. Paoli says to me. “You’ll be the judge.”

“We’ll walk to the river today. We can do a practice run where the path is quiet.”

“Yay,” Sophie says, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Crouching down, she tells the dog, “I’ll be really good, Diva. Don’t you worry.”

Mrs. Paoli casts a glance at the too-big sneakers on the child’s feet. “Just be careful not to trip.”

As Sophie is engrossed in smoothing a hand over Diva’s back, I whisper, “I’m hoping to get her some clothes in her size soon.”

Mrs. Paoli winks with understanding.

While I attach the leash to Diva’s collar, Mrs. Paoli disappears into the house and returns a moment later with a zip lock bag filled with cookies.

“Here you go, Sophie.” She gives her the bag. “You may need to recharge your energy during the walk.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Paoli,” Sophie says, suddenly shy.

“It’s a pleasure, my dear.” Mrs. Paoli waves us off. “See you later.”

Sophie skips out ahead of me, the bag of cookies dangling in one hand and Beatrice in the other. She hums to herself as we make our way to the river. On the path that runs next to the water, I take Beatrice and the cookies so that both her hands are free. When I hand her the leash, her small face is scrunched up with concentration.

“Not in the mud, Diva,” she cries out as the dog almost trots through a puddle of water.

Sophie takes great care to steer her around it, clearly taking her task very seriously.

When we return Diva, she tells Mrs. Paoli proudly how she didn’t get the dog’s legs dirty. At Mrs. Paoli’s praise, Sophie’s face glows.

Mr. Martin is less surprised when I knock on his door with a little girl in tow.

“She yours?” he asks, motioning at her with his pipe.

“She’s my husband’s niece,” I say.

“Ah. Well, I’ll let you get on with it then. I’m taking the boat out, so I won’t be under your feet.”

After giving me a few instructions, he grabs a fishing rod that leans against the side of the house and gets into the boat. The engine sounds when I usher Sophie inside the house. The space smells of pipe smoke and cabbage.

Wrinkling my nose, I open a window. Mud is caked on the tile floor of the kitchen, and the dust lies thick on the furniture in the lounge. The windows are grubby, the view outside obscured. I don’t have much experience in cleaning, only the little I’ve done at the new house, but there’s only one way to learn.

After installing Sophie in the lounge where she plays with Beatrice, I roll up my sleeves and dive into the deep end. I start with the dusting and polishing the wooden furniture. Then I tackle the stove and counters in the kitchen. After changing the linen on the bed in the upstairs bedroom, I put the washing in the machine. While I’m vacuuming, Sophie waters the plants. She walks ahead as I’m mopping, pointing out the spots I miss. After I scrub the bathroom, we eat the sandwiches I packed for lunch in the kitchen while we wait for the floors to dry. Sophie has the cookies for dessert. Lastly, I put the linen in the dryer and wash the windows.


Advertisement3

<<<<475765666768697787>97

Advertisement4