Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103878 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 519(@200wpm)___ 416(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
I'm driven by her.
Every time he connects, I think of Bianca's smile. Every time I block, I remember her laugh. Every time I land a devastating combination, I see her face when she called herself pretty, when she started to believe what I've known all along.
“Mercy, brother,” Cavin finally calls, breathing hard. “Christ, you're a machine today, and Seamus will finish us both off if we draw blood.”
I'm barely winded. The rage fuels me, keeps me going.
“Need to check on something,” I tell him, unwrapping my hands. “Declan’s got those files on Crowning?”
“In the office. Declan's there now, updating the surveillance logs.”
Perfect. I grab a bottle of water and head in.
I find Declan hunched over a laptop, three monitors displaying different camera feeds. He looks up when I enter and nods.
“Ash. Cavin fill you in?”
“Aye. Show me what you've got.”
He pulls up a folder and starts clicking through images. Marcus Crowning leaving his penthouse. Marcus at a restaurant. Marcus getting into a black sedan.
“He's predictable,” Declan says. “Same routines every week. Tuesdays and Thursdays, he meets with his bookkeeper. Wednesdays, he's at his club downtown. He visits some woman—we think she’s a mistress—on Fridays.”
Of course he does, the fuckin’ prick.
“Security?”
“Always two men. Sometimes three on Fridays.” Declan zooms in on one image. “Ex-military, maybe competent, but gone lazy with his predictable route.”
I study the photos, memorizing every detail. The way he walks with false confidence. The designer suits that can't hide the cruelty in his eyes. The smile he wears like a mask.
Those hands that fucking touched my woman.
This is the man who wanted to marry Bianca. Who planned to hurt her, kill her, and make her another statistic.
I will make him scream for mercy.
“Keep watching him,” I say quietly. “I want to know everything. Who he talks to, where he goes, what he eats for breakfast. Everything.”
“Right.”
I find Bianca in the kitchen with Caitlin and my cousins, laughing at something Kyla said. She's wearing a bathrobe over her pajamas, her hair still in a messy bun, and she's never looked more beautiful.
She sees me in the doorway, and her whole face lights up.
“Ashland!”
I cross the room in three strides, pull her into my arms, and kiss her like I've been gone for days instead of hours.
“Alright, alright.” Bronwyn laughs. “Ashland, who are you?”
I flip her off without looking, too busy breathing in Bianca's scent and feeling her heartbeat against my chest.
“Miss me?” I murmur against her hair.
“Maybe a little,” she admits, soft and shy.
“Liar.” I kiss her again. “You missed me a lot.”
“Fine. I missed you a lot.”
Christ, I love this woman.
I love her so much it terrifies me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Bianca
We have three days of peace at the McCarthy house. It astonishes me that I ever believed these people were anything but… family.
Caitlin is welcoming and maternal to everyone, including me. Bronwyn treats me like a sister, takes me under her wing, and we spend long afternoons in the library, reading in the oversized chairs with hand-knit blankets. Staff brings us tea, and I feel like a princess.
Ashland's training with his cousin, researching Marcus's location, and making his plan. It's at the back of my mind. Honestly, at the back of everybody's mind. We're nervous, we're worried, and we know there's going to be violence that we can't control.
But for now, things are good, and I will take that.
Every single night, Ashland comes back to me. We crawl into bed together, and I forget everything but him.
Four days after I've arrived, I'm doing the washing up in the kitchen. Caitlin tells me not to, that they have staff for that. But I like to earn my place, and it feels good to contribute to something here.
“I can't just sit around and get…” No, I won’t say it. But somehow, even when Ashland's not in the room, I know he would not be happy about that. And I'm starting to see that it's all been in my mind.
That I am beautiful, just as I am. And there's no reason to change anything about me. Not one thing.
“Lazy,” I finally finish with a smile.
Caitlin smiles back at me. “If you insist,” she says warmly. “But I like that you're spending time with Bronwyn.” She takes a teacup out of the strainer and a hand towel. “She's had a rough go of it in keeping friends. Sometimes it can be isolating, being who we are. People don't trust very easily, you know?”
“I know,” I say quietly, because until very recently, I was one of those people myself.
Erin sits at the table, pounding away on a laptop. She types faster than anyone I've ever known, and her mind is like a steel trap. I'm amazed by the woman.
“It's true,” she says pragmatically. “People don't trust the mafia.”
Bronwyn laughs out loud, stirring a large pot on the stove. “Erin, I love that there's no pretense with you. You just, you just say things.”