Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79575 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Will nods, then his mouth curves up. “Come on, calm down. You know I did what’s best for you.” When I start to walk around the desk, he asks, “Where are you going?”
“To check on Jimmy,” I mutter, still pissed off.
He rushes to catch up with me. “We’re leaving for the day,” Will tells Devon as we pass his desk.
I slam the button for the elevator while giving Will a scowl.
“You still love me,” the fucker mutters under his breath.
“You’re fucking lucky I do,” I grumble as we step into the elevator.
On the ride down, Will continues updating me on everything regarding the mafia.
All of the management staff know I’m the head of the Irish mafia, but not the lower-level employees. Byrne Enterprises is a construction company I use to launder funds for the mafia. For the past couple of years, it’s been producing one hell of a profit. I’m slowly moving the money laundering operations to a new venture, so this company can be legitimate.
On the drive over to Jimmy’s house, I mutter, “That’s the last time I take a vacation.”
“Now you’re overreacting,” Will chuckles.
“One of my best men had a heart attack. I lost three employees at Byrne Enterprises, and two got killed while transporting a shipment. It’s a clusterfuck.”
“It would’ve happened whether you were here or on vacation,” my friend points out.
I don’t bother agreeing or disagreeing with him.
Stopping the SUV in front of Jimmy’s place, I glare at the state of the house. “The place looks like shit. Get the men to give it a fresh coat of paint and to clear out the gutters.”
“Okay.”
Walking up the path, I gesture at the worn state of the small garden. “Have them clear out this shit as well.”
“Got it,” Will replies before knocking on the door.
A woman in her late forties opens for us. The moment she sees Will, a smile spreads over her face. “Wow, now you’re visiting twice a week?”
“Aren’t you lucky,” he shamelessly flirts with her. Will just has a way about him that makes people love him. Unlike me.
Not having time for this shit, I push past them and walk into the living room. Surprise flutters over Jimmy’s face, and he immediately begins to get up.
Waving a hand at him, I say, “Sit down, old man.” I glare at him, shaking my head as I take in how much weight he’s lost. “I leave you alone for six weeks, and you try to die on me. What the fuck, Jimmy?”
He shrugs as if it’s nothing. “I hit a little speed bump. It’s nothin’.”
Sitting down on the single-seater, I stare at Jimmy for a moment longer. “You look like shit.”
The nurse comes in, followed by Will. Locking eyes with the nurse, I ask, “Isn’t he eating? What did the doctor say?”
Her gaze rests cautiously on me. “Jimmy needs to rest and not get upset then he should get better in no time. He eats but complains about the vegetables.”
I turn my gaze back to Jimmy and give him a not-negotiable look. “Eat your fucking vegetables.”
He grumbles something beneath his breath, then nods at me.
Letting out a breath of relief, now that I’ve seen him with my own eyes, I say, “Don’t make me worry. Get better, you hear?”
“Aye-aye.”
“Can I make everyone some tea?” the nurse asks politely.
“No, thanks,” Will answers. “We can’t stay long.”
“If you have work to do, you can leave,” I tell Will. “Swing by in an hour to pick me up.”
“Sure?” Will asks.
When I nod, he heads toward the front door. I turn my attention back to Jimmy, who says, “Go make us tea, Kristine.”
Once the nurse leaves the living room, Jimmy gives me an apologetic look.
“Don’t you fucking dare apologize for having a heart attack,” I warn him.
“I feel useless sittin’ around on my arse all day.”
We stare at each other for a moment, then I ask, “Do you need anything?” I gesture to the kitchen. “Let me know how much she costs and what your medical expenses are. I’ll take care of it.”
Emotion washes over his face, and being his usual grumpy self, he starts to argue, “I can’t expect that of you.”
“Shut up and let me take care of you. It’s the least I can do after you’ve been loyal to the family for years.”
Jimmy glances down at his hands which are starting to show signs of arthritis. The man looks downright uncomfortable, but then he mutters, “Thanks, boss.” Lifting his eyes to mine, it seems like he wants to say something else, but then Kristine comes in carrying two cups of tea.
After taking the cup from her, I set it down on the coffee table, having no intention of drinking it. I have a problem with consuming anything I didn’t prepare myself. It goes hand in hand with the no-touching thing.