Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Her fucking bodyguards should’ve told me first thing. But then again, I’ve been busy chaperoning my brother. “What did he want?”
“Nothing really,” she says. “Just made some weird comments about running into each other, and…” She trails off, tapping a finger against her head like she’s trying to knock something loose. “Gianni and Berthold rescued me before it got too awkward. He seemed a little off.”
“Tony is dangerous.” I step closer to her, body humming with a sudden sense of impending doom. How had Tony found her like that? And how did he get so close? “You need to tell me things like this immediately. I’m going to fire your useless fucking guards.”
“Don’t, it’s my fault, I asked them not to say anything until I had to a chance to talk to you first. I knew how you were going to react—”
“And how’s that?” I grab her arm, standing closer.
“Like this.” She struggles slightly. “Adler, don’t read too far into it. I’m fine. It’s all fine.”
“Tony Vetch is running around this town closing loose ends. You want me to ignore the fact that he approached you?”
“I’m not a loose end,” she points out. “I don’t even know the guy.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re mine, and that’s all he cares about.” I pull her from the bar. “You’re heading back to the apartment.”
“Wait, Adler! I’m not done my shift.”
“I don’t care. Big Dan will handle it.”
“This is stupid, stop it. You’re making a scene.”
“I don’t give a damn.” My head’s spinning. Tony really walked right up to my wife on the beach? She should be protected at all times, how the hell did my biggest enemy get within spitting distance of her?
I can barely hear what she’s saying as I pull her back to the elevator. I gesture angrily at her guards to keep pace, and I can tell they realize they fucked up. She’s trying to pull away and some of the guests are staring, but fuck them and fuck this place.
Tony Vetch got close to my wife.
I failed her. I let her down.
And I won’t make that mistake again.
“Get the fuck off me, Adler.” She rages at me once we’re alone in the elevator heading to the apartment. I release her now that she’s safe.
“It’s for your own good. You don’t know Tony like I do.”
“This is crazy. You can’t just drag me around in public like that.” Her cheeks are red and there are tears in her eyes. She’s rubbing her arm like it hurts.
Oh, fuck.
Did I do that?
Did I seriously make her cry right now?
But I have to steel myself, make myself hard, close off my emotions.
Her safety is all that matters.
“You need to stay in the apartment for a little while. Lie low until I find out why Tony approached you.”
“Adler, this is too much. I didn’t sign up to be a freaking prisoner. You can’t just—”
But the doors open and I pull her inside. “Stay,” I snarl, hating myself for it.
And despising myself even more for the look she gives me as I walk back to the elevators and leave her there.
Chapter 23
Casey
The only thing I learn from Adler’s little tirade is that I need to hide stuff like running into Tony Vetch.
Otherwise, he’ll lock me in the stupid apartment.
I spend a solid ten minutes stabbing the elevator call button, but nothing happens. I phone the front desk, but the patient and polite girl explains that she has strict orders not to let anyone up or down until Mr. Costa says so.
I then explain to her, equally politely, that I’m a fucking captive in my own apartment, at which point she hangs up.
It takes a special kind of person to survive a customer service job.
I am not that kind of person, which is why I rage and curse and basically throw a temper tantrum, which I’m aware is super childish and not going to help at all, but I’m so frustrated that I can’t stop myself.
It takes a solid hour before I’m calm enough to think.
Adler is overreacting. Tony was creepy and weird—definitely won’t deny that—but I didn’t get the sense that the man wanted to hurt me.
And yet Adler’s acting like I stumbled into a den of starving wolves.
I’m obviously missing something.
Like whatever Tony was talking about when he kept asking if I remembered, whatever that’s supposed to mean.
Unfortunately, I don’t, but there has to be a connection.
Between me and Tony, me and Adler, Tony and Adler, I don’t even know anymore. It’s this tight little circle, and it feels like everyone knows what’s going on except for me.
Eventually, I make dinner out of the meager offerings we have in the apartment. I pour myself some wine and sit on the balcony, staring out at Atlantic City, breathing in the brine-thick air, trying to figure out why Adler’s locking me away for the crime of taking a walk on the beach.