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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“You better come in then,” I say, smiling to put her at ease.

“By the way, the doctor came,” Heidi says. “He examined the children. Except for malnutrition, they’re healthy. Johan and Étienne have cavities in their teeth. You’ll have to make an appointment at the dentist.”

“How tall are you going to grow?” I ask Sophie.

She sucks her bottom lip into her mouth.

I frown. Not so long ago, she was excited about learning that fact.

“I’ll be in the laundry room if you need me,” Heidi says with a sigh.

Sophie enters my study ahead of me, looking around the space. I can’t help but notice how lost she looks in the big room.

“What is it, Sophie?”

She turns to me. “I want to go home.”

Something inside me tightens in protest. “You are home, darling. Don’t you like your new room?”

Fabien went to a great deal of trouble to make it even prettier than the temporary one in the new house. I thought she’d like the doll’s house that’s structured like an artificial cave and the fairy garden in the bay window, but what do I know about what little girls want?

She averts her gaze and drills the toe of her sneaker into the rug. “It’s nice, but I want to go home to Sabella.” A note of uncertainty slips into her slight voice. “You promised.”

Yes, I did, and I also made myself a promise earlier in the kitchen not to break her trust.

Going to my desk, I take the parcel that I got from Bastia and carry it back to her. “I have something for you.”

She stares at the gift wrapped in pink paper and tied with a big white bow. Isn’t she excited or curious? I thought she’d jump on it. It just goes to show how little I understand her and how much I still have to learn.

“Take it,” I say with another encouraging smile.

She slowly untangles her grip on Beatrice and puts the stick doll on the sofa before taking the parcel. She glances at me as if she expects a vile surprise. Her actions are unenthusiastic when she peels off the paper to reveal a white box with pink hearts. The white and pink remind me of Sabella’s sixteenth birthday party. The colors transport me back to the time when I first saw her. I remember with startling clarity how I felt—the pleasant discovery of her beauty, the instant possessiveness, the overwhelming jealousy, and most of all, the inappropriate desire. I shake off the memory and force myself back to the present moment, to the little girl who stares at the closed lid of the box.

“Open it,” I urge gently.

She wiggles the lid and pulls it free. A porcelain doll with blond curls and an exquisite dress of anglaise embroidery rests on a cushion of velvet. The blue eyes are made of glass. Her face is delicately painted. The toy is a work of art. I watch Sophie intently, waiting for her reaction.

“It’s very pretty,” she says, handing me the box.

I frown internally but manage another smile. “She’s yours. It’s a gift. You can keep her.”

She lowers her arm reluctantly.

I crouch in front of her. “What’s the matter, darling? Don’t you like the doll?”

She bites her lip and looks away, clearly sad instead of happy.

Fuck. What did I get wrong? “Is the dress not the right color?”

She shakes her head and meets my gaze again before saying in a trembling voice, “I want to go home, back to Sabella.”

Blowing out a silent sigh, I consider how to approach this. I can’t lie to her. That will definitely betray her trust. I did however promise I’d take her back today.

“Sophie,” I start carefully, brushing a hand over her short hair. “Do you remember when we talked about your room at Sabella’s house being temporary and that you’d eventually live here?”

She shakes her head more vehemently and says with more volume, “I want to see Sabella.”

“And you will. I’ll take you back in a moment.”

Tilting her head, she considers me with a pleated forehead. “Really?”

“That’s what I said back at the—” I catch myself, not being able to say that word out loud. “Back on the hill.”

“Can we go now?”

“Yes.” I straighten with an audible sigh this time. “Of course. If that’s what you want.”

She holds the box out to me. “Thanks anyway. She’s very nice.”

My heart softens. This scrap of a girl is going to wrap me around her little finger. Correction. She’s already won me over tenfold. “As I said, it’s yours. You can take it with you.” I don’t want to tell her my intention for giving her a real doll was to replace the stick one. I’m not as sure as I was when I bought the doll that the gesture will be welcome.

“Really?” she asks again.

“That’s what a gift means. You can do with it as you please.”


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