Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
“I’m aware.”
“To our cousin,” he adds. “The contract is signed.”
“And?”
“Why are you meddling in her life? Moving her out of her apartment. Changing her guard. God knows what else you’ve been doing. I know you like to torment her, Romeo, but this is above and beyond.”
“Gabi wasn’t safe in that apartment, and her guard was incompetent. If Riccardo had two functioning brain cells, he would have known that.”
Angelo studies me. “So you aren’t trying to move in on her behind his back?”
The idea that I owe Riccardo any sort of loyalty is laughable. She was mine first. She’s always been mine, even when she didn’t know it. But that’s not what this is really about. Angelo is in the middle of negotiating the favor of a senator, using Riccardo’s father Emilio as his connection. It’s a big score with opportunities for backchannel lobbying and securing government contracts. He wants my assurances that I’m not going to fuck this up somehow.
“Nothing has changed,” I bite out. “Don’t twist yourself up in knots on Riccardo’s behalf.”
“It’s not Riccardo I’m worried about.”
“So what then? Afraid I’ll blow a gasket and hurt Gabi?”
A grim expression settles over his face. “Is that what Dad told you?”
I don’t answer, and the silence that follows is uncomfortable as fuck.
“He must have said something because you did a thorough job of pushing her away.”
“He told me the truth.” I stare through him.
Angelo looks like he wants to argue, but thinks better of it. “You can’t just come back into her life when you feel like it.”
“I already told you, it’s nothing. Now, if you don’t mind, can you fuck off so I can go to bed?”
He lingers for a moment, then nods. “Fine. Get some sleep.”
When he leaves the suite, my focus shifts to the monitors on my desk. I haven’t watched her today, but the echo of my father’s words blunts that spark of temptation.
You aren’t good for her.
Not like this.
He was right. And I know if I ever opened the letter he gave me before he died, there’d be another reminder.
As if I needed one.
My gaze drifts to the scar imprinted on my hand. There’s a certain irony to its haunting permanence.
Gabi has no idea the mood ring she won branded itself onto me during the lightning strike.
She’d tried a few different fingers before realizing it would only fit one. I’d never seen her blush as furiously as she did when I slid it onto my ring finger. She referenced the chart to read my mood, growing even more flustered when I asked her what it was.
Passionate, she said.
It was the last few minutes of innocence we ever had. An hour later, my heart stopped, and life as I knew it ended.
Deliriously tired, I open my phone to check my messages, but there are none. When I pull up the live feeds inside the penthouse, I find Gabi reading a book with Beppe in her lap. She’s wearing a pink lounge set and fake-fur slippers.
Her animal-loving, non-meat-eating conscience would never buy the real ones.
Because she’s light.
Sunshine.
And I can only ever be darkness.
7
GABRIELA
On Monday afternoon, I head to class, avoiding eye contact as I make a beeline across campus. The grounds are buzzing with activity today. So much so, it overwhelms me. There are a ton of people here, and I can’t figure out why.
As I attempt to skirt around a large gathering in the middle of the green space, I pause when I realize they’re holding a vigil. Out of curiosity, I try to get a better look at the campus chaplain who’s at the front of the crowd, leading the group in prayer.
I find a gap and weave through it, Julian close beside me. As I spill into an open space on the other side, I notice the media crews filming. Following the direction of their cameras, my heart stutters when I see the white posterboards on display.
Four faces stare back at me—their names written in bold letters beneath the images.
A wave of nausea rolls through me as my gaze settles on Nate’s picture.
All day yesterday, I’d felt sick at the thought of seeing him on campus again. I thought about reporting it to Julian so he could handle it through the proper channels. But if I did that, it would also expose the fact that I snuck out unattended. I wasn’t sure what Michael would do if he found out, but I knew it wouldn’t be good.
In our world, Mafia daughters are expected to remain untouched before marriage. I’ve seen what happens to those who don’t. The entire family is often shamed, and in turn, harsh punishments are meted out by the man of the household. Sometimes, new marriage contracts are arranged with prospects who would never be considered otherwise. They might be given to a rival, or worse.