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)
“I’ve heard the same…” Before finishing my statement, I wait for the burn of my lie to color her cheeks. “But I don’t give a fuck if her pussy lays golden eggs.” I wet my suddenly bone-dry lips, and her eyes follow the trek of my tongue, then narrow during my following sentence. “I’m not giving you back.”
Even if this began as a means to get my dick wet, I’d rather ship her home than fold to an Adami. I just can’t let her know that. My best-kept secret is that I’m a bigoted tyrant when it comes to rapists.
Antonio may not have been at the event that nearly ended Dante’s relationship with Lucia before it began, but I know he’s been involved in past ones. Graphic footage doesn’t lie.
“Why?” Azra’s question isn’t as assertive as her earlier one.
I ball my hands into fists as if that’ll stop my mouth from spilling words it’s never spoken before.
It’s a waste of time.
Just like I blame Giovanni and Dante for my lack of promiscuity over the last few months, I blame them for this. Cupid’s arrow has been aiming for my ass ever since they fell head over dicks for their ladies.
It’s exhausting dogging that little fucker.
“Because he doesn’t deserve you.”
Shocked, Azra blinks slowly, her incredibly long lashes touching her cheeks. It’s understandable. Even when you make me come in under twenty minutes, I don’t issue compliments.
“You’re unqualified to make that judgment. You don’t know me.”
A mixture of excitement and challenge fizzes in my stomach. “I know enough.”
An emotion I’m certain I’ve never experienced twitches my top lip when she brushes off my excuse with a scoff. “That’s not a legitimate reason to cancel my wedding.”
I return her stare, jaw flexing, before hitting her with truths not even a suicidal woman could ignore. “The instant you sign on the dotted line, he’ll use you, control you, then break you until you don’t recognize yourself.”
Her nonchalant shrug whips up her perfume, further thickening my cock. It’s nothing close to saintly and has me picturing how delicious the rest of her will smell. “You don’t know what I can handle. Maybe I might break him.”
My laughter echoes around her room. “You’ve got balls, sweetheart. I’ll give you that. But even if you had responded to Don Adami’s hit by sodomizing him with my gun before blowing his brains out through his ass, I still wouldn’t believe you understand the Adami family’s capabilities.” I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear before flaring my nostrils to drink in the scent of hope wafting from her that Don Adami will soon fall on his knife. “I know what the Adami family is. And I know what they’re capable of.”
“And you? Are better? Worse? Or the same?”
She doesn’t flinch when I reply, “Worse, sweetheart. Definitely worse.”
Most women shy away from controversy.
Azra steers straight for it.
“Then why do you care what they may do to me?”
My mouth twitches, but not a word comes out.
You pussy-whipped idiot! You walked straight into her trap!
I should shut this down. I’m accustomed to barking orders and having others follow them or die, but I can’t bring myself to remind her of this.
I’m obsessed with her attitude and eager to see if it holds up while I tame the monster dick her take-no-shit attitude inspires. But my father would hang me from the rafters by my nuts if I didn’t ensure she knows the depravity of the situation she’s placing herself in.
“You want me to hand you back to a man who sees you as nothing more than a bargaining chip?”
Her lips, designed to make men fall to their knees, twist, unfazed. “That’s what I came here to be.”
Something brittle splinters through me. It could be jealousy, or perhaps even possessiveness, but what the fuck would I know? I’m not known for my emotions. I’m immune.
Though you wouldn’t believe me if you heard the concern in my tone. “Then you came to Carlisle for the wrong reason. That shit doesn’t fly here.”
“Since when?” she asks, laughing.
I snuff her giggles. “Since my niece became a part of our lives.”
Her glistening eyes dance between mine for several long seconds, stunned, before she eventually murmurs, “My family needs this marriage.”
“And you?” I ask, assessing her like I’ve known her for longer than five minutes. “Do you need it?”
She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. Because she doesn’t know. She’s never had permission to ask herself that question. That isn’t how the Cosa Nostra works.
Now all of Dante’s worries about raising a daughter in our world make sense.
I’m a fucking prick for not understanding them earlier, and I’m also an ass when grouchy.
“I’m not giving you back, so pack your shit and let’s go.”
“No.”
“I ain’t asking.”
A tiny sting blooms at my throat as her attempt to reinforce her stance pierces the sharp end of the letter opener into my neck.