Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Jasmine.
Her name lifts my mood more than her address.
Pretty name for a pretty girl, but what the hell is she doing living on this side of town?
She could have the whole world at her feet.
Being a good head and shoulders taller than most has me taking longer strides as well as being able to spot her long before she knows I’m on her trail.
Damn. If that ass doesn’t look better by the minute, even at this distance.
I’ve hustled some to catch up, but it’s almost as though she’s in no hurry to get home if that’s where she’s headed.
Being a man of my size makes it easier to be seen too, and I don’t want to frighten her, so I hang back once I’m able to keep sight of her.
She’s looked around a couple of times, probably sensing she’s being followed.
But she’s not Portello stock. I know she’s not.
So who the hell is she?
Only one way to find out.
The sudden appearance of a short, heavy-set man on the sidewalk out in front of an apartment block has me connecting a couple of dots.
I know a landlord when I see one, and the pink slip tells me this young lady is more than just a little behind on her rent.
Her landlord’s face fills in the rest of the details for me.
I’m too far back to hear what’s going on, but my eyes are keen, and I can see a thousand words in the street scene unfolding in the distance ahead.
Her landlord looks angry, about to leave, when he suddenly spins on his heel.
He looks worried.
Frightened is the word.
What did she say exactly?
By now, the thick line of arousal in my jeans is matched by my curiosity.
I wait for the landlord to disappear, then duck behind a doorway when I see her looking around again.
She doesn’t spot me. At least, I don’t think she does.
I wait for the moment she goes inside, and I make my way toward the building. Another car honking as I cross the street makes me wonder what’s wrong with drivers today.
But the familiar silver grille of the vintage town car catches my eye.
Followed by the even more familiar face behind the tinted window as it rolls down from the rear passenger side.
I walk over to the car in silence, knowing better than to attract any more attention to myself.
“Papa,” I murmur, wanting to ask him just how long he’s been following me, but I can tell by the look on his face it’s since I left the house earlier today.
I’m usually one to check if I’m being followed, but my Papa.
He’s the best at it, so there’d be no real way of knowing.
Even if I was checking, he would be unseen to my eyes.
Martinelli's on this side of town don’t have any reason to be. At least, they never used to.
That was until last night happened.
“Get in,” is all my father says. His face is granite, and his voice is thick with emotion, but now isn’t the time or place to argue.
My whole body and soul scream to go to the building opposite us to find that girl.
But Family always comes first.
God, I hate that rule. It’s been drummed into me since I can remember, and not once have I dared to go against it.
None of us have, so I do as I’m told and climb in on the opposite side of the car. My father doesn’t wait long to tell me what he thinks of my mission so far.
“You call that a ‘talk’?” he spits, almost shaking with anger as he tells me how disappointed he is in my meeting with Portello.
“You could’ve killed him twenty times over, but what do you do? You sit there for two minutes like a big fucking dummy, and then you just leave…following the first piece of ass you’ve shown interest in that I’ve seen,” he hisses, but I stop him there.
Having him yell at me for not doing what he thought I would or should is one thing. But talking about Jasmine like that?
I won’t hear it, not a single word.
“Don’t say that, Papa!” I shout over him, balling my hand into a fist, and slamming it down on the armrest before my eyes move back to the building.
Willing her to come out again.
Wishing I’d just gone up to her now, but only because it’s too late.
If my father knows I am interested in something, he’s sure to do all he can to make sure I can’t have it.
Not until I’ve done everything he wants me to do beforehand. Not until I’ve earned it.
For the Family, of course.
“I didn’t know you expected me to whack him,” I growl, grinding my jaw impatiently.
Wondering just how much more precious time I could lose today and what else could get between Jasmine and me.