Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Valentina’s head was down, so she was oblivious to the danger barreling toward her. Without the instincts I’ve developed from living on the edge, I wouldn’t have rushed to her defense before my head could object.
In three heart-thrashing seconds, I grabbed her arm, yanked her back, and then crowded her against my SUV. Despite the wind tunnel the truck’s brutal speed caused, the wild flutter of Valentina’s pulse against my pulse made my dick as unbendable as a steel rod. Then, when her eyes met mine, wide and unguarded… fuck.
Everyone knows the Carusos are direct. We’re not known for subtlety or hesitation, but something about Valentina made me act differently. She’s beautiful, yes, but it’s more than that. Her commanding presence drew my eye long before she stepped into danger.
Even though I shouldn’t care how close to death she was, I do. The anger clutching my throat hasn’t loosened its grip in the slightest, and my jaw is tense enough to crack. I’m late for an important meeting, and although my commitments usually take precedence, the desire to beat the living shit out of the person responsible for my annoyance is too potent to ignore.
Confident my brothers will support my decision to right an injustice, I swing the SUV into a tight U-turn. Burning rubber fills my nostrils as I turn down a familiar street. I know the company I’m seeking. The logo on the side was subtle, but I’d recognize it anywhere. It’s from one of my family’s many businesses.
The knowledge enhances my fury.
My family rarely offers mercy. Our rules don’t protect you solely based on your gender. If you double-cross us, expect to pay for your stupidity with your life. This is different, though. Valentina didn’t steal a drug shipment or place pinholes into my brothers’ condoms to try to force ties with a legacy in the billions. She was walking on the fucking street, as thousands of tourists and locals do every day.
That doesn’t warrant a death certificate.
I work my jaw side to side while pulling into the dusty lot of a transportation company five clicks out of town. Once parked at the front, I get out and shut the driver’s side door with a bang.
Heads turn as I walk toward where the trucks are stored. They know this can’t be good. The Carusos only visit when something is awry. We don’t do drop-in spot checks, especially not the person who heads the clan.
Although my visit will whistle through the gallows for months, my strides don’t falter. My blood is too hot to let this go.
It only takes scanning half a dozen faces to spot the one I’m seeking. I didn’t see the driver’s face or plate while racing to beat him to Valentina. I was too busy sheltering Valentina to take in any identifiable features, but the guilt on this man’s face tells the entire story. He knows who I am. Just like he knows why I’m here.
“Signor Caruso.” Even with fear flaring in his bloodshot eyes, his composure is calm. I don’t believe his red eyes are because he’s been crying. It seems he enjoys the drugs this company transports more than a casual user would.
Dust kicks up when I bridge the gap between us. “You nearly killed someone back there.”
The fool shrugs, feigning indifference. It’s a pity his shaky hands betray his fear. “It wasn’t my fault. She wasn’t looking where she was going.”
His lazy dismissal extinguishes the last of my patience. Fisting the front of his shirt, I yank him forward until his face is an inch from mine, and the popping of his buttons pierces through the noise in my head. He’s taller than me and a good thirty pounds heavier, but backing down isn’t in my vocabulary.
“Not only did you drive through Carlisle like you own the place, but you did it with our merchandise dusting your fucking nose.” I flick his nostril with my spare hand. My fairy tap springs tears to his eyes and sprinkles the collar of his uniform with the white powder I’m skeptical he paid for. “When you wear this uniform, you represent my family. Today, you made us look irresponsible. That’s unacceptable.”
Color drains from his face when it dawns on him how serious I am. He tries to pull back, but my grip is ironclad, so he returns to being a coward. “I-I’m sorry, Signor Caruso. It won’t happen again. I-I—”
Before he can issue another pathetic excuse, I strike him hard across the cheek. My backhanded slap sends him sprawling backward, and he lands on his ass with a thud. Seconds later, the crack of my foot breaking several of his ribs booms over the shocked huff of the people surrounding us.
Tears trickle down his cheeks as bewilderment and pain mingle on his face. His sudden remorse doesn’t slow me down. I can’t stop recalling the fear in Valentina’s eyes before I plucked her from danger, and how different things could be if I’d hesitated for even a second.