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 try to wrap my head around that. Young Cormac, different from other people, violent and vicious. He’d probably been killing for the family before Finn even realized it.
What does that do to a person? How can a man grow up normal and sane if blood has been a part of his life since he was young?
Finn seems uncomfortable like I started dredging up bad memories, and I decide to leave it alone for now. Instead, I gesture at the bed frame. “I’m getting this.”
“Excuse me?” He cocks his head, looking confused. “Like I said, you do realize your husband is rich?”
“Yep, I’m aware, but he’s also a controlling prick.” I turn to my brother-in-law, grinning viciously. “We’re going to cut a deal.”
He groans, shaking his head. “No fucking way. If you’re about to ask me to do something that’ll piss him off, I’d just rather not.”
“He’s going to keep pushing you to watch me during the day, right? I bet he’d flip if he knew you let me go wandering around the neighborhood today.”
“That’s not what we’re doing,” he says, his expression darkening.
“But he’ll see it that way, especially if that’s how I present it to him.” I smile sweetly. “Unless you make a deal.”
“Well, fuck me sideways.” Finn cocks his head, looking at me like I’m a new woman. “You’re devious, aren’t you?”
“That’s the thing.” I step toward him, showing teeth. “You never bothered to get to know me.”
He laughs once without mirth. “What’s the deal?”
“You buy me what I want. You arrange delivery with the shop. And I promise to order lunch to the office for the next two weeks.”
“Four weeks.”
“Two weeks. I’m not negotiating. We both know I have the leverage here.”
He stares at me, and I look right back. Let him get pissed. That doesn’t matter. I’m the daughter of a mafia Don. I’m the sister of a mafia prince. I’ve been in this business all my life, just like him, and I’ve learned a thing or two.
Maybe I reject all the violence. I don’t love the way my family sells drugs and ruins lives.
But I sure as hell know how to negotiate.
“You run a hard bargain,” he says, shoving out a hand. “You’ve got a deal. If Cormac asks though, tell him this was all on you.”
“Oh, don’t you worry. I plan on it. But one more thing. I have a very specific request for when they drop off my stuff…”
Chapter 23
Bianca
Ilug the last drawer into the house, up the steps, and slide it into the second-hand bureau with a groan. My back hurts, and I’m all sweaty from carrying this stuff down the sidewalk and in through the front door.
Letting them drop everything right out front would’ve been easier. But Cormac might’ve noticed.
Instead, I had them leave it in front of our neighbor’s place. Which is why Cormac didn’t say a thing this morning when he left to do whatever he does (murder, mayhem, etc.), while I stayed behind and told him I was working from home.
I’m getting something done, at least.
It takes me half the afternoon to get my room arranged. The bed’s a pain in the ass, but I manage to have the frame prepped and ready. I couldn’t get a mattress from the shop—I’m desperate, but not that desperate—and so I have one ordered and on the way.
I just have to hope I can sneak it inside without Cormac realizing.
I’m nearly finished unpacking my boxes when I hear the door open downstairs. An excited thrill runs into my belly. I’m not sure how my husband’s going to react, but I’m positive it’s not going to be good.
Still, fuck him. Staying in the office for lunch is a reasonable request, and if that’s all he wanted, I would’ve happily complied. I really am fucked up and worried about those Bratva thugs. No part of me thinks that’s the last time they’ll try to kill me.
But this room thing has been an issue. His whole excuse about keeping me close so he can make sure I’m protected reeks of total crap.
This is about control.
That’s how our relationship’s always been for him. Cormac decided when to sneak into my room, what to take, when to leave. He controlled everything.
Now he’s dealing with me. Not with the version of me he saw when he rummaged through my things and watched me while I slept. No, this is an actual human being, and I think he’s struggling with how to deal with it.
Especially when I don’t want to give him what he wants.
I hear him come up the stairs. I try not to look up from where I’m putting away the last of my shirts as he walks over and stops in my doorway.
My heart’s racing. I know he’s standing there. Probably staring at the bed and seething.