Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
She places the box in my palm before her eyes lift to mine. “Are you sure, Leo?”
No. Not at all.
Lying to my mother, I nod. “Yeah.” Tucking the box into my pocket, I lean down and press a kiss to her forehead. “I have to head home.”
As we walk toward the front door, Mamma asks, “Will I meet Haven before the wedding?”
I shake my head. “I’m too busy right now.”
I can see Mamma’s not happy with my reply, but she doesn’t push the subject.
Lifting my arm, I give her shoulder a squeeze while pressing kisses to both her cheeks. “Have a good night, Mamma.”
She watches me from the front door as I walk to the Porsche, and when I start the engine and drive away, I’m overly conscious of the wedding ring in my pocket.
I have the meeting with the other alliance members tomorrow. Other than that, I can take some time to get to know Haven better.
I need to find some clarity on the matter before Massimo is done making all the arrangements.
Yeah, maybe I should take a couple of days off.
After the wedding, I have to focus all my resources on finding Vito Santoro and that fucking rat, Sebastiano.
Feeling better now that I have some kind of plan, my aggression lessens during the drive home.
I park the car in the garage, and getting out, I enter the mansion through the kitchen entrance. As always, silence greets me.
There’s no sign of Haven, so I take the stairs to the second floor, where I’m met with a shut door. I suck in a deep breath before I knock.
It takes close to a minute before I hear movement, and Haven comes to open the door. Her features are tight with caution and fear, so I keep my tone as gentle as possible when I say, “Give me your passport.”
Her eyes widen. “Why?”
I’m not used to being questioned, and it has annoyance flare up in my chest. “Just get your passport.”
With a frown on her forehead, she walks to the bed and digs her passport out of her handbag.
I pull my phone out of my pocket, and when she hands me the book, I open it to the page with her details and take a photo.
Done, I hand the passport back to her. “Come join me in the living room so we can talk.”
It’s clear she doesn’t want to be around me, but at least she doesn’t put up a fight. After she shoves her passport back into her handbag, she follows me down the stairs.
When I take a seat on the couch facing the foyer, Haven sits on the one across from me, which gives her a clear view of the ocean through the floor-to-ceiling windows situated behind me.
She doesn’t lean back but remains perched on the edge, her hands clamped together on her lap. I take in how tense she is and realize I don’t like seeing her so terrified.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I say, hoping it will set her at ease.
Her eyes dart to my face, and a flicker of hope ignites in those light brown irises of hers. “Will you let me go?”
Letting out a sigh, I lean forward and rest my forearms on my thighs. “The wedding is going to happen, Haven. I just want you to know you’ll be safe here, so you’ll stop being scared of me.”
She turns her head and stares at the large foyer. “I’ve known you less than a day, and you shot my cousin twice.” Her gaze swings back to me. “You pointed a gun at my mother’s head and gave me no choice but to come here with you.” An incredulous look blends with the constant fear on her face. “Then I find out you’re the head of the Italian mafia and you want me to trust that you won’t hurt me?”
“Luciano survived,” I mutter.
“You shot him!” she practically shrieks. Panic flares over her face, and she presses a hand to her chest. “I don’t want anything to do with the mafia. Just let my mother and me return to the States, and you’ll never hear from us again. I promise on my life we won’t tell anyone about you.”
I stare at Haven’s beautiful face, taking in her high cheekbones, full lips, and button nose. Her long, brown hair hangs in waves down her back, the strands looking soft as silk.
My gaze moves lower to her slender neck and glides over the top she’s wearing. The fabric doesn’t do shit to hide her hard nipples, and when she realizes what I’m looking at, she pulls the cardigan she’s wearing tightly around her and turns her head away from me again. Her shoulders curl forward as if she’s trying to make herself a smaller target.
She’s so fucking petite and feminine, it calls to my predatory side, making me want to sink my teeth into her skin while I make her writhe with pleasure beneath me.