Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
I slow and stare at him as the name rattles around my head. “I only know his reputation. He’s their enforcer, right?”
“They call him their Ghostman. He makes their problems disappear. It’s a lot worse than an average Famiglia enforcer, Bianca. I want you to stay far away from that guy while he’s here.”
I tug at the ends of my hair and resist the urge to take out the Chapstick my ghost left behind. “Why did they bring him?”
“I don’t know,” Adriano admits. “It’s honestly a little worrying, but he’s still their family. Maybe he’s close with his brother.”
I shrug and let it drop, but I really doubt that’s the case. From what I’ve heard, Cormac Whelan’s a straight-out psychopath. All the Whelan brothers are tough, streetwise criminals, but Cormac’s by far the bloodiest and the worst. I’ve heard people say he can kill anyone, anywhere, and particularly revels in strangling his victims so he can watch the light leave their faces. It’s creepy as hell, and I don’t need to be told twice to keep my distance from the guy.
Once we’re out front, I do my best to push Cormac from my mind. Down at the small front gate bordering the sidewalk, three men are waiting. One’s older, graying hair, sharp blue eyes, and hard wrinkles. He’s tall and lean. Definitely the father, Padraig. He comes through the gate, ignoring the guards that lurk nearby, and approaches Adriano with a hard and confident air about him.
“Good to finally see you in person, Don Marino,” he says as they shake hands.
“I feel like we’ve met a dozen times considering how much we’ve spoken recently.” Adriano comes off as warm and intelligent, but he’s got an edge to him too. “And please, call me Adriano.”
“Of course. This must be your sister, Bianca.” He shakes my hand next. His skin is callused and tough. “Good to meet you. This is my youngest son, Finn.”
He gestures toward a man standing just behind him. Finn’s got boyish good looks, tannish skin, sandy brown hair, and a cocky smirk. He’s decent looking, but not really my type at all. I smile, uncomfortable, and nod to him.
“Nice to meet you,” I say softly.
“You too.” He laughs, and it’s surprisingly warm. “God, this is awkward as fuck, right? I mean, we’re getting married.”
I try to smile back, but I’m already looking past him toward the third man.
Cormac hangs back from his father and his brother. He’s more muscular than Finn, thicker and heavier, with the predatory grace of a killer. His black hair is cut short, and his thick black eyebrows frame light blue eyes like his father’s. He’s got a square jaw and a small nose, and staring at him makes my heart suddenly race. Where Finn’s boyish and soft, Cormac’s a bundle of steel wires and sharp knives.
Attraction stabs down into my guts. It tangles my stomach like ants crawling around my intestines. I’m afraid of him, but I’m also strangely drawn, and I can’t stop staring. He’s so damn good looking, it’s almost absurd. If Finn’s nowhere near my type, then Cormac hits the mark exactly.
“Ah, and this is my other son, Cormac. He’s here as moral support,” Padraig says smoothly.
Cormac only nods, staring straight back at me, his gaze unwavering and terrifyingly intense, like he can’t seem to pull himself away. And I meet his look with one of my own, mouth open slightly, tongue pressed against the back of my teeth, heart racing up into my throat like it wants to scream.
What is it about this guy? Why do I feel like I’ve seen him before? And why do I have the sudden urge to run my hand through his hair and press my mouth against his lips just to see if he bites off my tongue or not?
But Adriano’s already inviting everyone inside, and I’m forced to walk alongside Finn as we head back into the house.
Every step I take, I’m completely and terrifyingly aware of Cormac staring at my back.
“Look, I feel like I should say that this wasn’t my idea.” Finn hunches over a beer as we sit together in the gaming room. It’s modeled after an English pub with a pool table and lots of old wood. Apparently, my grandfather had an Anglophone streak in him and built this place when the mansion was just coming up.
“I figured that.” I swirl my glass of wine, not really in the mood for drinking. Which is fine, since Finn’s got us both covered. He’s already down to his third beer, and we’ve only been chatting for about a half hour.
“I mean, I’m guessing you felt the same way, but I wasn’t exactly happy about it when my dad broke the news. No offense, I didn’t even know about you at that point. But it’s like, in this day and age, we’re supposed to marry a total stranger?”