Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“What job?” Mira asked, brows drawing together.
It was a general rule that we didn’t involve the women in the business side of shit. That said, poker wasn’t supposed to be about business. Anthony was just itching to be better and back to work.
“Shit. Yeah. No business,” Anthony said, wincing.
“No. I mean… what job? That Polat guy’s body was found yesterday.”
“Wait… what?” Anthony asked, gaze moving to me.
“Oh, yeah, you didn’t hear about that?” I asked, tossing another chip in the pot.
“Does Lorenzo know?” Anthony asked, gaze accusing.
“Well, I know Emilio knows,” Mira said, meaning her and Anthony’s brother. “So I’m sure Lorenzo does by now.”
“How’d it happen?”Anthony asked, his gaze on his sister.
“I don’t know what the official cause of death was. The news said the body had ‘extensive’ damage. I heard a rumor that his hands were cut off,” she added, smirking.
Mira had never been someone to shy away from the truth. Not even when it was ugly.
Had she been born a man—or the Family as a whole got progressive sooner—she would have made a great Family member.
She was quick on her feet and ballsy as hell, but was careful and made sure she knew all the sides to a situation before she acted.
Well, except for that time when she walked her ass onto the turf of the Esposito Family to see her sister that had been forced into marriage with the boss of said Family to prevent a long-standing war from getting worse.
That had been stupid and reckless.
Which, of course, only made me like her more.
“Who the fuck would cut off his hands?” Anthony mumbled to himself.
When I glanced up, I could feel Salvatore’s eyes on me, something knowing in their depths. Something that said he was going to have some questions for me after Mira left and Anthony hobbled off to bed.
“Who knows,” Mira said, sighing as she decided to fold. “I mean he was fucking over half the city, so if anyone got pissed enough. Why do I never win at this shit with you guys?” she grumbled as she sat back, crossing her arms. “Well, I know why you always win,” she added when, yet again, Salvatore had the best hand. “Had nothing to do but practice.”
“Well, if you want to improve your game, babe, you can kill a guy and go away for fifteen years,” Salvatore said with a smirk.
“Listen, fifteen years of cooked meals and no men sounds like a fucking dream. Don’t tempt me.”
“Oh, when was the last time you even spent time with a man?” Anthony asked, poking the bear in the way only a younger brother would do.
“What are you talking about? I am surrounded by you guys all the time.”
“Well, if you learned how to cook, you could be in the kitchen with all the other women,” Anthony piled on.
“Right. Because that is where a woman belongs, huh? You know who cooks all the time?” she asked, making Anthony exhale hard and shake his head, knowing what was coming. “Primo Esposito. He cooks for Isabella all the time. He even cooks for his friends.”
“Friends,” Anthony scoffed. “He doesn’t have any friends.”
“He is building his ranks back up. And he does have Vissi,” she said, her gaze slipping away in a way that made me think it wasn’t all men she wanted to avoid, but rather just one.
“When did you become Primo Esposito’s biggest fan?” Anthony grumbled, taking his new cards and inspecting them.
“He treats our sister like a queen. You could learn a thing or two from him. Was I mistaken or did I see three separate women text you in the last half an hour?” she asked, moving her cards around.
“What? You think he was celibate before he married Izzy?” Anthony shot back.
“I’m saying mom raised you better than to be a player.”
“Are you giving this lecture to Emilio too? Last I checked, he hasn’t ever been serious with someone.”
That was fair.
Emilio had always been someone who liked things fun and casual.
That being said, ever since his sister was forced into a marriage that she initially didn’t want, Emilio had gotten a bit darker, much more intense. He didn’t fuck around as much. He’d gotten much more dedicated to work instead.
“Emilio has his own issues going on,” Mira said, shrugging. “We’re not talking about him. We’re talking about you.”
“Do you two ever let up?” Salvatore asked, shooting them a tired, older uncle look.
“Hey, she…” Anthony started, getting cut off by the sound of all three of our phones ringing at the same time.
Which almost never meant good news.
“Of course,” Mira hissed, tossing her cards. “Just when I actually had a hand I could win with.”
“Why don’t you head over to The Bronx and have your brother-in-law cook you something?” Anthony suggested, wincing as he got to his feet.
“Careful or I will stab you somewhere that won’t heal as nicely as your belly has,” Mira said with a saccharine smile and dark eyes.