Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 105734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
I wish I could be honest with him. He’s so sweet, I almost feel bad about using him. If only his father were a regular person; if only Danny were alive and I didn’t know any better. But the situation can’t be changed. I need Frankie to fill me in on his family, and I have to remember what really matters. Danny is counting on me to avenge his death, and I can’t let anything stop me. Not even the kindness of a man who’s caught in the middle.
“Let’s just watch some TV,” I suggest.
“Perfect,” he agrees. “Because I’m dying to see how this episode turns out.”
“Are you?” I wonder. It seems ridiculous to be invested in this cheap comedy show.
Frankie gives me a wolfish grin to let me know he’s kidding. I laugh, accepting the fact that there is now a very real elephant in the room. Though neither of us are acting on it, the sexual tension feels like a living entity. It sizzles in the air, promising a kind of savage relief that both of us are aching for. Yet we are forced to deny ourselves the satisfaction because love comes with consequences. I’m not ready, but not for the reasons Frankie thinks.
I put my head down on his chest, setting my glass next to his on the coffee table. Instead of making out like I really want to do, I allow myself to relax against him. He throws an arm across my shoulders and pulls me tight. Kissing the top of my head, he seals the deal.
We act like two normal people, watching stupid TV and enjoying each other’s company. If only that were the extent of our relationship. But unfortunately, I’m not able to actually enjoy myself. I have work to do, and this connection that I feel with Frankie isn’t strong enough to sidetrack me. I’m determined to take his family down, and once he figures out who I really am, he’s going to hate me. I’m sure of it.
CHAPTER 15
FRANKIE
Ihaven’t suffered any panic attacks since my visit to Sofia’s apartment two days ago. It’s as if her sweet caresses cured me. Now, instead of dwelling on all the impending work, I catch glimpses of her breasts in my memory, drawing me back to that perfect moment we shared on the couch.
We’ve been texting each other regularly. I even had a chance to focus on the bar exam, although not for hours on end like I used to. I spent some time talking to Marlena. She’s busy designing the nursery in one of the spare rooms. She bent my ear about colors and furniture, saying that she wants an old-fashioned rocking chair instead of a newer, plush one for midnight feedings.
I’m still nervous about the baby and about the test, but I’m supposed to shadow Uncle Gio at work today, so that trumps everything. But as anxious as I am, it hasn’t risen to the level of a panic attack. Sofia cured me.
I roll out of bed at seven in the morning, and I dress to impress. Last night, Uncle Gio pulled me aside and told me exactly what I need to do to get ready. He instructed me to wear a business suit.
“You’re the son of the boss,” he said. “You need to look the part.”
So, I pick one of the many suits out of my closet and get dressed. I choose a red tie with a blue diamond pattern, one that I hope looks sufficiently powerful. I don’t need to intimidate anyone, but that doesn’t mean I can’t try. This is a new role for me, and I’m not sure if I’ll fit in. But I must give it my all. I owe my father that much.
I reach for an energy drink before going downstairs. I have a small stash in my room that I use for studying, but this seems even more important to start my day. Whether I become a lawyer, I’ll always be my father’s son. And no matter what happens with the new baby, I’m still first in line for the throne.
“Ready to go?” Uncle Gio asks when I arrive in the living room.
He’s wearing a suit with no tie. His shirt unbuttoned at the top so that you can see a hint of his chest. It’s a different vibe. I feel more like a lawyer, and he looks more like a mafioso.
“Should I lose the tie?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he agrees.
I pull the tie off and toss it onto the couch. Someone will come along and clean it up, I’m sure. We skip our morning coffee and go straight to work. Getting into the car, Giovanni chooses to drive himself.
“It’s all about appearances,” he says as he maneuvers his way through the gate. “Sometimes you want a driver, sometimes you want to drive yourself. It depends on how many witnesses you want or whether you need people to see you as rich.”