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)
"Why?" I whisper, desperate to understand this man and what fuels him. Just when I think I have him figured out, he throws me another curveball. He says something I didn't expect. He adds one more layer of complexity to the mystery, tangling me even deeper in his web.
"Because you're mine, tesoro. Because protecting your light keeps it shining in my world." He smiles at me, one as complex and complicated as he is. "Because falling in love with you is the only thing I've done right in my life, and I'll be damned if I fuck it up now."
"Gabriel, I..."
"Shh, piccola fiamma," he murmurs, gently placing his finger over my lips. "We have a whole lifetime for you to fall for me, too. Don't rush it."
There's only one problem with his plan. I've already fallen for him.
I'm just too fucking scared to tell him. Because if I say it, then it's real. And if it's real, I could lose him too. I've already lost everything else. Alexander took it from me.
I'm terrified he'll find a way to take Gabriel too.
Chapter Ten
Gabriel
" Cristo ." I toss the folder of information on Santorum's dirty deeds down on my desk, growling in disgust.
"For a man who swears he's on a mission to end gun violence, he's certainly created a big enough monster, hasn't he?" Rafe murmurs, looking up from the sheaf of papers in his hands.
I grunt in response. The fucker—Santorum—has stolen thousands from the police department over the last decade. He writes a big check to one of their uniform suppliers for equipment, and tacks on fifteen, twenty guns at a time. When the equipment comes in, his lackey at the equipment supplier sets aside the guns to sell them, and calls someone from the department to pick up everything else.
The lackey sells the weapons, pockets his share, and then delivers the rest of the cash to Santorum. He's running the same scheme with three different suppliers. He has to be pocketing ten or fifteen grand a month, minimum.
And he's been doing it for years.
How many guns on the street are there because of him? How many innocent people have died because he's a greedy son of a bitch?
We may not be paragons of virtue. People may lose sleep worrying about La Cosa Nostra. But we don't target innocent people. We don't pour guns into a city already bleeding, and then pretend the problem isn't our own creation.
Our souls may be black, and our money splattered with blood, but it's not the blood of the innocent. We didn't climb a fucking pile of their bodies to secure Rafe's empire.
No wonder Genesis lives in fear of this motherfucker.
That ends now.
"Call a meeting," I growl, looking at Rafe. "I want him on a leash and muzzled by the end of the week."
Rafe nods. "I'll get it set up." He expels a heavy breath, spearing me with a look that says I'm not going to like what he has to say.
"Just say it."
"You shouldn't be there."
"Like hell."
"If you want to make him pay, we make him pay," he says. "But if you're there, he'll realize in two seconds that you're in love with her."
"Let him. It changes nothing."
"It gives him a reason to lash out at her," Rafe disagrees. "If he's trying so hard to get his hands on her, you and I both know it's personal. He thinks she belongs to him."
"She belongs to me," I snap. "She's my regina. If he comes for her, he'll howl for mercy. I don't give a flying fuck if that brings the entire department down on us. If it were Amalia, you'd do the same." Being Capo may have changed him, but falling in love changed him more. He'd break his oath and set the world on fire for her. I know this is true because he was willing to do it once. When Genovese took her, he was willing to risk it all to get her back.
Malevolence flashes through his eyes at the thought of anyone coming for Amalia again.
"The last time you made a decision for me, it damn near destroyed us," I remind him. "You don't get to make this one, Rafe."
"I did what had to be done."
"You let me believe that we sent an innocent man to prison!" I roar, bringing my hand down on my desk. "Goddammit, Rafe. You let me hate you for five fucking years."
That pulls him up short. "You hated me?"
"Close enough," I say, passing a hand in front of my face, weary. So fucking weary. "I blamed you and hated myself. I wanted to hate you, and fucking hated that I couldn't."
"Cristo, Gabriel."
"You were my hero, and then you did—or I thought you did—something that made you exactly like our father. You sacrificed someone else for the empire." I lean back in my chair to look at him. "You should have told me the truth."