Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 125243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
“Do you recognize them?”
I swallow hard before once again shaking my head. “I’ve never seen them before.”
Matteo glances down at his shoes to hide his smile before leading me back to our SUV. Halfway there, curiosity overcomes me. “How did this happen?”
The patrolman stops talking to the security officer from the lead SUV before he cranks his head my way. “The truck driver forgot to put the safety pin in. When the truck took the corner, the logs rolled off, killing all the passengers in the Audi instantly.”
He winks as if the situation isn’t what it appears to be before he resumes talking to the security officer. Matteo guides me into the back seat of the SUV just as fast.
As our vehicle navigates through the traffic accident scene that took the lives of the men Matteo would have given anything to kill, he reaches into his pocket. Without hesitation, he hands me something cold, metal, and chilling.
It’s a safety pin.
The safety pin.
My breath catches, and I shoot my eyes toward him.
He neither smiles nor gloats like the officer did. Nor does he explain himself. He simply watches me, waiting... no, anticipating that I’ll react.
I do, but not in the way he’s expecting.
I’m not angry.
I’m… pleased.
Never in my life has someone stood up for me, and he didn’t do it for alliances or power.
He did it for me.
Closing my fingers around the pin, I align my eyes with the pair peering at me in the rearview mirror before saying, “Please take the long way home.”
The driver dips his head in agreement before he slides up the privacy partition I’m praying makes this half of the SUV soundproof.
Chapter 42
Matteo
I’m days into what I thought would be worse than a bullet to the head, and somehow, things keep getting better and better.
I didn’t think I’d ever get married, yet here I am, waking up every morning with a heaviness in my chest that isn’t associated with dread, responsibility, or duty.
I’m clueless what to call it, but I’m reasonably sure it has everything to do with Azra—my wife.
I’m obsessed with her. Wholly and without apology. Every day, I find something new to fixate on. Just watching her brush her teeth thickens me below the belt, and when she gives me lip, annoyed that I used her things for anything but their intended purpose, my obsession grows tenfold.
I am reluctant to leave her side, even for a second, but today I have to.
I requested this meeting, so if I don’t show up, my brothers will assume I’m dead, causing trouble, or too lovesick to function.
Only one of those is true.
I’ll leave you to guess which one.
Voices boom out of the games room when I round the corner. Giovanni continually checks his watch. Dante restocks the stationery cupboard as if it isn’t brimming with supplies. Nico is eating something that smells like it died twice, and Elio is studying a surveillance image like he did his first Playboy centerfold—head angled and lips pursed.
They all look up when I walk in.
Giovanni smirks. “Look who finally remembered he has a family and responsibilities.”
“Shut up,” I mutter, taking a seat. “You’ve been eating Valentina’s pussy every day at a minimum of twice a day for seven months straight, but I bet you still whined like a bitch when I called this meeting.”
Dante grins. “Don’t be jealous, Matteo. A healthy appetite is in the Caruso bloodline.”
“Tell me about it.” I rub my hands together but keep my many, many stories to myself.
Azra… our sex life… fuck. Why did I have to remember so soon into the honeymoon phase that I won’t be the man my wife needs if my head never leaves the comfort of her legs?
Not going to lie, my woman is a nymphomaniac. I’m struggling to keep up with her demands, and I love sex as much as I do her eagerness to suck my dick.
“Married life that good?” Nico asks, his tone a little too high for his liking. He sounds like a dweeb who has never had his cock sucked. I know that’s a lie. Back in the day, we shared a girl or two. Even when she was being filled by one of us, she was required to suck the other’s cock.
That’s all done with now. I thought that was the life.
Again and again, Azra continues to prove me wrong.
I don’t answer Nico. I don’t need to. My silence says everything.
Elio whistles. “He’s so fucking gone.”
He’s not wrong, but I didn’t come here to talk about how whipped I am.
I came here to keep my promise to Azra.
“Azra doesn’t believe Antonio’s first wife’s suicide was a case of mental illness. She believes Antonio orchestrated her death.”
The room falls silent before Giovanni breaks it, “Why would she want to marry him if she thought he killed his first wife?”