Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 142939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142939 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 715(@200wpm)___ 572(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
I take a deep breath and weigh the options.
“Let’s go.” She bounces on the balls of her feet.
I guess I don’t need to weigh them after all. This little slip of a woman won’t take no for an answer. She’s more like her sister than she realizes.
“Fine. But you stay by my side. You don’t wander off. You speak to no one. You don’t leave my sight. If you yell for help or–”
She makes an incredulous snort. “I’m not going to yell for help. I’m not an idiot.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“Good.” She nods. “Because I’m not. I mean, I’m not as smart as Angelica, but I–”
“Hey.” I step to her, and to my relief, she again doesn’t cringe away from me. “You’re plenty smart. Don’t say otherwise.”
“You don’t even know me.” She raises a brow. “I mean, other than the basic things a kidnapper knows about his victim, I guess. Did you study up on me before coming to get me? You must have. I mean, you chose a good target to get a decent ransom. So yeah, you must’ve studied up.”
“Studied up?” I shake my head slowly. “No.”
“Good, then I can still surprise you.” She smiles.
“I don’t think that would’ve been a problem.” The fact that she’s standing here in my house is a surprise. The fact that she doesn’t seem to be afraid of me–holy fuck, that’s the biggest surprise of all.
“Fernando, you’re stalling. Let’s go.” She grabs my hand.
I freeze. No one’s ever touched me like this. Not with warmth and familiarity. And she shouldn’t be touching me like this at all. She doesn’t know if I’m a psycho or if I intend to hurt her. She’s trusting me for no good reason. If she knew who I really am, she’d run screaming and do everything in her power to escape. My reputation is dark enough to have made it to her ears, I’m certain. The Butcher is a common tale among the mafia around here–mothers even use it to scare their children into behaving. But I’m no fairy tale. I’m real, and I enjoy spilling blood if it means safety for my chosen family. Antonio and Gilly are like brothers to me, and we’ve always had each others’ backs–which makes it even more strange that I haven’t returned a single call or text from them since I snatched Bianca from the Larone estate. I’m on my own.
She squeezes my hand, her warmth traveling along my skin and making something fizz pleasantly at the back of my brain. “Come on, Fernando. Don’t worry so much. I’m not going to try to escape. You’d catch me if I did.”
Damn right I would.
My name on her lips is all it takes to get me moving. I know it’s a stupid risk, but my desire to make her happy overrides all of those concerns. My cold, calculating mind isn’t in control right now. Some other part of me is. It scares the shit out of me, but when Bianca smiles up at me with trust in her eyes, I realize it’s worth the risk. She’s worth the risk.
4
BIANCA
“So do I like, get back in the trunk?” I ask. I’m pretty sure me not seeing where I am is a big part of a successful kidnapping.
“No,” he grunts.
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. His grunted one-word responses are adorable.
“Put this on.” He hands me a hat before he reaches for my hair. For a moment, he runs his fingers through it, and I wonder what he’s doing. Then he piles it on top of my head. I put the hat on to cover it. Next, he drapes a giant coat over me. “There.”
“Are you sure I don’t stand out more dressed this way?” I thought I was supposed to be blending in.
“Have you seen a mirror? Trust me. This will draw less attention.”
“Okay.” I scrunch my nose, not sure I agree, but whatever. He’s the professional kidnapper here. I’m just along for the ride until he gets the ransom from my father.
He puts his hand on my back, guiding me out to the car. “Wait! Don’t I need a blindfold since I’m not going in the trunk?”
“It’s fine.” He opens the passenger door for me.
“Why, thank you,” I say before I get in and buckle my seatbelt. Fernando slips into the driver's seat.
“Good girl.” He nods at my seatbelt.
I don’t know why, but his praise warms me. I suppose it’s not something I’m used to getting. It’s dark out, so I can’t make out much as Fernando drives down a long, windy driveway that cuts through a bunch of trees before we finally make it to a street.
“You think they’ll be okay?” I glance back even though I can’t see the house any longer, worrying about the kittens.