Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
I frown. “What? I didn’t do anything with that money. I don’t have anything on me.”
“I already know that,” he says. “You think I didn’t immediately have my men check you, bitch?”
He slaps me across the cheek, not hard enough to leave a mark but hard enough to sting. And I touch my own face where he hit me to try to soothe the pain.
“You steal from me again, and I will cut off more than you can bargain for. Do you understand?” When I don’t respond, he yells, “Do you understand or not?”
I softly nod to avoid another slap.
“Good. Don’t fucking try that on me again.”
The car finally comes to a stop near his mansion, and when the locks are off, I immediately rush out into the fresh air to try to control my emotions so I don’t cry.
How did I end up in this mess? If only I hadn’t taken his money. But God, I needed it so badly.
I swallow down the tears, blinking a couple of times as Lucio steps out of the car, too. There’s no point in running because his guards are everywhere. Except in my room, of course, because he barred all the windows off with metal. He probably knew I’d jump if I got the chance.
I don’t want to marry this bastard, but he’ll make me. All because of the money that he gave to me when I needed it the most.
“You,” Lucio barks, “go to your fucking room and let the maids help you. If I so much as hear a single scream, I’ll personally come up there and give you a reason to scream. You got it?”
I suck in a breath and don’t reply as I waltz up to the door of his mansion, sticking my middle finger in the air, but I doubt he sees it. He’s too preoccupied with trying to find whatever remaining cash he still has after the explosion threw it all across the room and out into the void.
I guess I should be grateful to whoever interfered with their negotiations because it definitely wouldn’t have ended well. One of them was about to get shot, and I doubt Lucio’s men would have let Matteo hurt him without gunning him down first.
I couldn’t bear it.
And all of this because of that same fucking money.
Lucio really is the devil.
Still, I can’t help but wonder if the man who wants him dead isn’t just as much a devil as he is.
I go up to my room and close the door behind me. The maid still isn’t here, so I have some peace and quiet on my own for now. I stay put near the door and fidget in my pocket to take out the item that dropped out of my hair, and I stare at it. It’s a tracker with the same letter engraved on top as the cuff links that Matteo wore.
A smile lifts up my face.
Maybe, just maybe ...
Suddenly, there’s a knock on my door, and I jolt in surprise.
“Miss?” The door opens, and I step away, tucking the tracker back into my pocket.
“I’m here to help you clean up a little,” the maid says.
I clear my throat and smile. “Yes. I’m ready.”
Matteo
The next day
Just when I’m about to open my laptop, Franco knocks on my door.
“Come in,” I say and put down my regular morning coffee. I don’t like being interrupted during my work, but he knows if it’s important, he should come to me, no matter the time.
“We were right, it was an ambush. The Costa family is responsible. We found some of their bullets.”
“Of course it was them,” I say.
“They were arrogant enough to engrave each one of them with their own emblem,” Franco adds.
I can’t blame them. We do the same to our cuff links and other items. I consider it my calling card. And I guess the Costa family considers their bullets their calling card. Even though we escaped without scratches, it nearly cost me my life being in Club Triton today to talk with that bastard. I wonder why they tried to kill us both.
“One of the boxes Lucio carried in is missing from the scene. And I doubt he took it with him,” Franco adds.
I rub my chin. “So that’s what they were after? Money.”
“Someone must have tipped them off to the deal,” Franco suggests. “Someone in Lucio’s vicinity.”
“He’s got a mole,” I point out.
“Exactly,” Franco states.
“We should use it to our advantage. See if you can find out anything about him. Name. Occupation. Address.”
Franco nods. “I’m on it.” And he waltzes off again.
I open my laptop and lean back, watching my program do its job as it tracks down each step that pretty blond-haired girl is taking in her room inside the Agostini mansion.
The moment she steps outside, she’ll be mine.