Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
He makes me cry again, damn him.
I'm not mad about it.
"Bellissima," he whispers a moment later, stealing the tears from my skin. "Bellissima."
I know that one too. He's pretty beautiful himself…a caged lion finally set free.
"We need to talk, piccola fiamma." Gabriel curls himself around me an hour later, seaming his body to mine in the bed. I'm too exhausted to move. He had to bathe me after we finished. I couldn't seem to make my body work.
I don't think he minded. Actually, I know he didn't. Satisfaction burned deep in his eyes as he cradled me in the tub, cleaning me up. He loved every second of it.
So did I. It's been a long time—a really long time—since anyone took care of me. My mom died when I was nine. It's been me and my dad ever since. He did his best, and he was an amazing father, but I did a lot of taking care of myself while he worked long hours.
It happens when you run one of the most successful law firms in the state.
"About what?" I ask.
"Alexander Santorum."
I sigh. Somehow, I knew that's what he was going to say.
"We need to collect the file you hid."
"You're giving it to him, aren't you?" He doesn't have to tell me for me to know that's the play. I grew up in a law firm. I know strategy. His family—he—is mafia. There are only so many ways this plays out. I knew that when I decided to tell him the truth.
"It's the best way to ensure he suffers." Gabriel brushes hair away from my shoulder before pressing his lips to it. "We can turn it over to the FBI and let the justice system have him, but you know how that goes with cops."
"It's a gamble," I whisper.
"There are too many variables we can't control, so yeah, it's a gamble. And if I kill him, well, that's a gamble too." His breath washes across my shoulder in a sigh. "It'll paint a target on our backs that we'll never get off."
"So we give him the files and then what? Hope he plays by the rules?" I laugh miserably. "You don't know him, Gabriel. He thinks he's above the rules."
"Not for long, tesoro," he says, his voice a dark rumble of promise. "We're giving him a copy of the file so he knows what ammunition we have pointed at his head. Either he falls in line, or we spill everything. We know prison is a gamble for him, but he's worried enough about it to have gone to all this trouble to avoid it. I don't think it's a risk he's willing to take, especially when it means he loses everything in the process."
"And then what? He just leaves me alone? He gets away with killing my dad?"
"He lives the rest of his life on his fucking knees, kissing Rafe's ring," Gabriel growls. "He plays bitch for the mafia, and Rafe drags him in deeper. Every favor he does us is one more assurance you have that he never comes near you again. It's one more guarantee that he spends the rest of his miserable life living in fear of what we can do to him."
"He doesn't touch you. He doesn't enter the same building as you or walk on the same street as you. He doesn't even remember you exist, or we blow up his world. And when it's done imploding, I'm the thing waiting for him in the dark."
"No."
"No?"
I roll over to face him so he sees my face and knows how serious I am. "I want to be the thing he fears, Gabriel. The one he's constantly checking over his shoulder for. I want to be the one he dreads seeing. I want him to know that when he sees my face, hell has finally caught up to him."
"Cristo, Genesis."
"If we're going to do this, then I should get to be the one he wakes in a cold sweat dreaming about, the one he avoids at all costs because his survival depends on it. That's what the last year has been like for me. That's what he put me through."
"You think you won't be the thing he fears?" Gabriel crooks a finger beneath my chin. "You think I won't ensure he lives in complete fucking terror of ever crossing your path again? I will, tesoro. He'll think your name and shit his overpriced fucking shorts. But your perfect little hands won't be stained by him. Your soul won't be tainted. Your light won't be dimmed. You won't lift a finger to make it so. That's the power of La Cosa Nostra. That's the power of the Valentino family. And that, piccola fiamma, is the promise I made when I swore to protect you. I'll blacken my soul to keep yours pure, and I'll do it with a smile on my face."