Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 73663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
I walk out the back door. Dante and a couple soldiers slam it closed and hammer boards to make sure it can’t be opened.
Then I flick a lighter, stare at the flame, and toss it onto the ground.
The fire takes fast. We used a lot of gas. It smells acrid and horrible as the siding and the insulation catch, sending thick black plumes into the air.
I turn my back on the burning house and walk over to where Dante’s waiting beside the family.
“Drive the wife and kid into the city. Drop them outside of Jasha’s place. Let them explain to him what happened.”
“You sure? They might go to the cops.” Dante frowns at the sobbing woman and her terrified boy.
“I’m sure. Jasha would’ve gladly put a bullet in my wife and child. I won’t be like him.”
Dante shrugs. “Whatever you say, Don Rossi.” He drags the woman and her boy to their feet and leads them off.
I remain standing as the house sends off a horrible orange glow. I don’t move as the screaming starts—Fyodor got his gag off. The man survives for a lot longer than I would’ve guessed. It goes on and on, and once it finally stops, I think of Maddie, I think of our child. I think of my brothers and my mother.
I walk away from the burning house with a smile on my face.
Chapter 37
Maddie
Ispend a lot of time in the garden.
Now that I’m not working anymore, I don’t have much else to do. I find that I like it—digging, weeding, planting, doing all the outdoorsy stuff I’ve never bothered to learn before now.
Mostly, I figure it out by talking to the landscaping staff. Some of it I learn from watching YouTube videos. And even Stella teaches me a few things, though mostly she sits on the porch and watches, occasionally going for a walk around the paths while I move from bed to bed.
“We have a groundskeeper, you know.” Renzo smirks as I wipe my forehead and get a streak of dirt on my skin. He laughs and comes over, using his thumb to brush it away. “But I do like how adorable you are in your little gardening outfits.”
“You mean jeans and an old t-shirt?”
“Exactly. Sexy beyond compare.”
I roll my eyes and kiss him. The kiss lingers—it always does.
“How’s your mother today?”
“She’s good. Quiet, but good. She asked about you by name.”
“That’s great, so she’s having a decent day then.”
“I’d say so.” He looks past me at the bed I’m working on. “What’s all that?”
“I planted another butterfly bush.” I shade my eyes and put a hand on my hip. “I think it’ll look good there, and your mother loves them so much, so I figured why not.”
“It’s great. Really great.” He puts an arm around my shoulders. “How about we go climbing later?”
“I’d love that.” I grin huge. He hasn’t been letting me out of the house very much recently because of what’s going down with the Russians, so a few hours at the gym would be amazing. “Are you sure it’s safe?”
“I already bought out the whole facility. I’ll fill it with soldiers.”
“You’re too much. Seriously, that’s too much.”
“Safety first.”
I lean into him and we admire my work. It’s not much—just a stupid bush really—but it’s something I did with my own hands. I feel a little pride at that.
It’s been a few weeks since Carlo got shot. I know things are tense in the city, especially after whatever Renzo did to get revenge. He never told me the details, but he did come home one night smelling like gasoline and smoke.
I’m happy. It’s weird to realize it, but I am. Before I met Renzo, I was content at best, at least while I was still dating Mark. Things were never great, barely good, but now every day is like a little miracle. I wake up with a gorgeous man in my bed, I help around the house, chat with Tara, call up Nicole, have steamy, rough sex with Renzo, and basically lounge around like a cat. It’s boring sometimes, but mostly, I’m glowing.
“Hey, you two.” Carlo’s voice cuts through the chirping of birds. He walks out toward us, limping slightly. For a guy that got shot, he’s in remarkably good shape. “What the hell are you guys doing? Digging around in the dirt?”
“It’s called gardening,” I tell my brother-in-law.
“When did you get here?” Renzo asks. Not accusing, only curious. Carlo hasn’t been spending much time at the house lately.
“Just showed up.” He looks uncomfortable as he scratches the back of his head. “Bro, do you, uh, mind if I borrow your wife for a second?”
Renzo’s eyes narrow. He gets this protective look on his face. “What for?”
“I just want to talk to her, okay? You can fucking watch from the porch if you’re that much of a psycho.”