The Beginning (The Life #1) Read Online Jordan Silver

Categories Genre: Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Life Series by Jordan Silver
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Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 108868 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
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“Thanks, Dad, I’ll go tell Gia,” I remembered to kiss his cheek before rushing from the room and up the stairs.

“Guess what." I barged into her room. "Dad said you can’t go back to the Russos without me there since you’re such an idiot. I know you didn’t think you’d get close to Gabriel Russo, as if.” She didn’t answer me, just kept drawing in that stupid book of hers, probably obsessing over her dead mother again.

“So, tell me, what did you do there? You probably lied about me, and mom didn’t you.”

“Your name never came up.”

“Well, what did you do there? Was Gabriel in the room? Did you talk to him? I bet you did, putting on your innocent act, telling him lies about me.”

I walked across the room to smack her but soon enough remembered Gabriel’s words. If I smack her, it might leave a mark. “Ouch, Victoria, let go of my hair. I didn’t say anything about you. You can go if you want. I don’t care.”

“That’s right, I can go if I want, and you can’t do anything about it. I’ll make sure they know everything about you, how stupid you are. I’ll make them hate you just like I did with everyone else.”

Her refusal to engage was only fueling my anger, so I pulled her hair again for good measure before leaving the room feeling settled now that that had been taken care of. I should’ve known mom would come through. Now to think of a way to get Gabriel on my side. The memory of that look sent shivers down my spine, but I ignored it; things will work out in the end, they always do.

GABRIEL

I sat in my chair in deep thought after the conversation ended over the listening device. My hands had been clamped tight around the arms of the chair I was sitting on, so I relaxed them now, letting the anger dissipate so I could think clearly. Hot fiery anger should be tempered with rationality to bring it down to a cool simmer. Only then can I think clear enough to come up with a plan. It took less than ten minutes.

Leaving my bedroom, I headed downstairs where I knew Pop would still be in his office before going up to bed. “Pop, what are you doing this weekend?” I sat down across from him, looking the picture of calmness.

“Nothing important, why? Did I forget we had plans to do something together?”

“No, you never do. I have a taste for cannoli from La Bella.”

“The place on Mulberry?”

“Yeah!”

“So we’ll go to New York this Saturday. Your sisters would love that.”

“Ma would too. They’re exhibiting Dutch Masterpieces at The Met.”

“You don’t say.

“Pop, exhibiting, not for sale or procurement.”

“What do you mean, son?” I wasn’t fooled by his innocent look one bit.

“If you take anything else out of The Met, I’m telling Ma. So, we good for Saturday? Let's make it the whole weekend.”

“Boy, how do you threaten a man and ask him for a favor in the same breath?”

“I learned from the best.”

“That’s right.” He grinned like a proud dad.

“You can tell your sisters about our plans. I’ll let your mother know though I doubt it would be a hard sell. She could do with a break from this party planning stuff. What is it that they’re doing anyway? Hasn’t it been months already?”

“You’re the one who gave them a blank check. I told you not to do that; now leave me out of your mess. I’ll go tell the twins, listen out for the screams, and remember, I only asked about cannoli and The Met. If you let your wife and daughters talk you into anything else while we’re there, you’re on your own.”

I left the room proud of myself for keeping the rage I felt inside from showing. Pop can see through me better than anyone else, so it was hard work remaining that relaxed in front of him when the whole time, all I really wanted was to go back to the Fontane residence and fuck shit up. I guess I’m not as calm as I thought.

I hadn’t heard much through the device since their conversation hadn’t lasted that long, but what I heard was enough. She pulled her fucking hair. I’m not fazed by the shit she was spewing about coming here tomorrow; that’s never going to happen, but I will make her suffer for touching her.

I don’t put my hands on people unless provoked beyond measure. Most people have a healthy dose of fear of me all the same because I have more lasting methods of dealing with assholes and their female counterparts, but that twit is skating close to having her neck wrung.

I guess Victoria and her mother had ruled their little kingdom of terror for so long their power went to their heads, and they forgot that there are people more powerful than them outside of their little bubble. The bubble they’d isolated her in, the one I mean to break asunder.


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