Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Greed.
I’d always imagined raising my family differently, in a small house with a little money. We would have family dinners, game nights, and we would set up the Christmas tree on the first of December. Our lives would be simple and peaceful.
But now they would be born into a world of crime, violence, and greed.
I didn’t want that for my baby.
The only way I could save them and myself was if I ran away. If I somehow found the perfect opportunity to disappear. I would run off to a new country, change my identity, and hide until Cato stopped looking for me.
That seemed just as impossible as turning him over to Damien.
But I had to try. It wasn’t like he could kill me if he caught me—at least not while I was pregnant.
The door to the balcony opened, and Cato stood there. Wearing his gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips and no shirt, he spotted the redness in my eyes and the shower of tears on my cheeks.
I didn’t even have a chance to fix my makeup. He barged in without notice. “You really should knock.”
“It’s my house.”
“My room.”
“I own this room and I own you.” He shut the door behind him and sat in the lounge chair beside me.
I wiped the makeup from under my eyes and steadied my breathing. I wouldn’t cry in front of him. Like I hadn’t just sobbed my heart out, I pretended nothing had happened at all. I looked out into the darkness across his property, seeing the few landscape lights illuminating the plants and trees. “Is there something you needed, Cato?” He never visited me unless he had a reason. We didn’t have chitchats, and we didn’t have sex anymore. I wasn’t required to do anything with him now that my plan had failed, but I did miss it.
He rested his arms on his knees and rubbed his hands together. “Giovanni said you skipped dinner.”
“I wasn’t hungry.”
“I don’t care. You need to eat.”
I rolled my eyes. “I’ve been pregnant for a few weeks. Skipping a meal won’t make a difference.”
“I’m sorry if I gave you the impression this was a dialogue.” He turned to me with a cold gaze. “This is me telling you what to do. You will eat all your meals—including this one. Defy me, and I’ll shove it down your throat.”
So he clearly didn’t give a damn I was crying. “I’m fine, by the way.”
“I couldn’t care less if you’re fine. Giovanni is gonna bring your dinner. If you don’t eat it, there will be consequences. And I will know if you ate it or not.” He rose from the chair and headed back into my room.
A life of obedience wasn’t interesting to me. “You’re more likely to get stuff done when you treat people like human beings.”
He turned around, his sculpted body so perfect it was ridiculous. “Like the way you treated me? When you stalked me, fucked me, and lied to me? Is that how you define humane?”
I looked away, tired of repeating myself. “I already explained why I did what I did. I wanted to save my father…” The mention of his name made my bottom lip quiver and my eyes water. Regret and pain washed over me. I was losing every family member, one by one. Crying in front of Cato was too humiliating, so I turned my face the opposite way and pretended to admire the landscape again. I cried quietly to myself, waiting for the sound of the closing door.
It never came.
He lowered himself back into the chair beside me. “Is that why you’re crying?” His voice was deep and soothing, not aggressive like it’d been a second ago. He sounded like the man I used to know, the lover in my bed. “Because of your father?”
Tears rolled down my cheeks. “Yes…”
He turned silent, but he continued to sit there.
“The last thing I said to him was pretty horrible. I always thought we would have a chance to make amends, to put our family back together. I thought he would see reason, see how money tore everyone apart. But now I’ll never get that chance…” I took a deep breath as more hot tears emerged. “I hate to imagine how he died. I hate to imagine what they did to him before they took his life. It keeps haunting me. I know he loved my mother despite what happened, and I hate that he’ll never be buried with her, that I won’t be able to visit them both. I hate that I can’t lay him to rest…to say goodbye.” I closed my eyes and wondered why I was telling him all of this. Under this new regime, I felt alone. The only person I talked to was Giovanni, and he was always about business. Cato was my only friend…even though he despised me.