Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
"Get up," I growl.
Carmine doesn't argue. He doesn't fight. He hauls himself to his feet, not speaking. We file out of the warehouse with Mattia following behind us. The wind blowing in from the lake is frigid, whipping the bottom of my jacket around.
"Stop," I order Carmine once we reach the edge of the dock. The board would have a communal fit if they knew I'd be dumping a body off the same dock we argued about not even twelve hours ago. They'd keel over if they knew just how many times this same scene had played out here over the years.
Mattia stands back, obscured in shadows. He doesn't speak. He merely observes quietly, ready to intervene if Carmine tries anything stupid. He doesn't. He's Mafioso to the end. Defiant. Proud. Unyielding. He tells me to go fuck myself. I tell him that he never should have touched what didn't belong to him.
He cracks when I raise the gun. Fear lights his eyes for the first time all night.
I find no satisfaction in it. And that's the moment I realize that loving Amalia has already changed me in ways so profound, I never even noticed until just this second. I don't relish this moment. I'm not amused. I'm not ferociously angry. I'm just…really fucking worried about Amalia. She's all I'm thinking about. She's all I'm ever thinking about.
Until I pull the trigger.
A scream rips apart the night, startling me. Before Carmine's body even falls into the water, I spin toward the sound, my eyes locking on a curvy blonde hiding between two barrels of oil on the far side of the dock. Her eyes are wide and stricken in her pale face, her mouth still open on her now soundless scream. She's tiny, barely even five foot tall. And she definitely shouldn't be here.
How the fuck did she even get in? This is restricted property.
"Fuck," I growl, taking a step toward her.
She snaps her mouth closed and takes off running.
I tip my head back and growl a string of curses up at the sky.
"I've got her," Mattia says, already running after her.
I leave him to it, knowing he'll catch her long before I do. Jesus Christ. Where did she come from? The situation isn't even remotely funny, but a burst of laughter escapes my lips anyway. Considering that I have no lawyer, the last thing I need is to be hauled in on a murder charge right now. Actually, in the grand scheme of things, being hauled in on a murder charge right now would be the least of my worries.
I dump the ammo from the gun, and then remove the slide and firing pin, tucking them into my pocket to dispose of elsewhere. Once that's done, I toss the rest of the gun far into the lake. Carmine's already sinking beneath the water. Within minutes, he'll be under. Eventually, he'll wash up somewhere.
If Mattia finds our witness, Chicago PD will rattle cages and make noise like usual. And then they'll add Carmine's case to the hundreds of other unsolved homicides stacking up on their desks. If Mattia doesn't find our witness…well, it's a good thing I have a house full of men prepared to swear that I've been home all night.
I turn my back on the lake to wait for Mattia.
Five minutes later, he comes jogging back down the dock.
"She slipped away," he mutters.
"Figlio di puttana!"
"She dropped her phone." He holds it up for me to see. "Ricci will have it cracked within the hour."
"I may be in handcuffs by then," I mutter.
"She committed at least half a dozen felonies breaking into this property," he says with a snort. "We'll find her long before she works up the nerve to go anywhere near a police station. Here." He tosses me the phone. "Take it to Ricci. You were never here."
"I need you to figure out what the fuck is going on."
"I know," he says, blowing out a breath. "You don't even have to say it."
"I'm going to say it anyway. He tried to kidnap her."
His jaw hardens. "Stronzo."
He's worse than that. Genovese too. The motherfucker sat across from me and told me that his wife sleeps at night because of me. And then he sent Carmine into my home to kidnap my girl. Diego may have started this war, but I'm going to end it. Genovese is going to die by my hand for sending Carmine after Amalia. I'll take out his entire fucking family too if they get in my way.
"I want to know what they know," I growl. "And then I'm going to kill Genovese."
Mattia smiles, a vicious, deadly smile. "I'll help."
"You're not going to like this," Ricci says two hours later.
"Are you guys reading from a fucking script today?" I ask, eyeing him over the rim of my glass of brandy. He's the second—or maybe the third—person who has said that to me today. Frankly, I'm tired of hearing it. Especially since they're right every single time. Whatever they say next is something I don't like.