Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86168 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
He’s fucking right. He’s absolutely nothing.
The revelation about Isak’s search leaves me reeling. Without thinking, I raise the gun and pull the trigger.
Yusuf’s head snaps back in a spray of gore.
I stand in the aftermath for a long moment. The corpse stinks. A part of me knows I should’ve kept him alive, at least to use him as bait for the rest of his operation. If there’s one sick goon causing problems, there are going to be more of them.
But I can barely keep my head straight.
He’s looking for something. Just like I’ve been looking for something.
The one secret my father has been keeping for a long time. The source of the Corsetti family’s power.
The Black Book.
Everything comes back to the book.
If Isak finds it before I do—
My entire family is dead.
I can’t let that happen.
No matter the cost.
I slump into the booth and lean my head back against the fake leather. The diner smells like grease and ketchup. It's strangely comforting and familiar. I haven't been here in a couple weeks, but coming back feels like stepping into my childhood home.
A cup of coffee appears in front of me. I frown in surprise and look over.
Kira's standing at the end of the table, scowling like I'm a huge disappointment.
“You're still alive,” she comments.
I touch the wound. “Thanks to you.”
“Part of me thought you were dead.” Her face twitches slightly, and I realize she's been worried.
I showed up on her doorstep with a nasty cut, asked for her help stitching it up, and disappeared again without an explanation. I bet she thought she got rid of me for good.
“Sorry to disappoint.”
Her expression hardens. “I'll survive. What's my rent now?”
“More than you can afford.”
She snorts a cute laugh. “You're such a prick.”
“I know.”
She glances sideways toward the counter. I can tell she's struggling with something, but finally looks back at me. “The driver's been a huge help. Thanks for that.”
“You're welcome. Glad Gem likes it.”
“She raves, honestly. Says it changed her life.”
I stare at her, holding her pretty eyes with my own. “Have dinner with me.”
She licks her lips, opens her mouth, and finally closes her eyes. “Next Saturday.”
My eyebrows raise in surprise. “What about it?”
“Don't be a dick and make me spell it out.”
“I'll pick you up at seven.”
“Fine. You better keep sending the driver.”
“No matter what, for as long as she needs it.” I hope she understands what that means. My offer to help her sister isn't contingent on what happens at dinner.
Kira nods, looking uncertain. “Why did you come to my apartment that night? You never really told me.”
I tilt my head. “Would you believe me if I said you're the only person I trust right now?”
She frowns for a second before grunting and turning her back. “I don't even know why I bother.”
I watch her walk off to help another customer. I sip the coffee. A little cream, no sugar, just the way I like it. I try not to smile.
She can be mad, but I told her the truth. Yusuf only confirmed my suspicion from that night.
Someone told them I was going to be at Hector's place. Someone who knows my movements intimately.
Which means I have a mole in my organization.
On top of this problem with the fucking Turks and the damn Black Book.
I drink my coffee and think about all the ways my life's going to shit. I think Kira's done with me for the night, but an hour later, she wordlessly refills my cup. I catch her eye, only briefly, and wonder if she really is the solution to all my problems.
KIRA
“Ihonestly can't believe this is happening.” Gem sits cross-legged on my bed, grinning like a maniac. She idly flips an old wallet around in her hands. “My big sister is going on a date.”
I glare at her through the mirror. “Don't make this harder than it already is.”
Gem laughs, shaking her head. “Why are you acting like you're marching off to a funeral?” Her eyebrows raise. “And why are you dressed like it?”
“Well, that's rude as hell.” I look at the black dress I'm wearing. “It's conservative, but it's not that bad.”
“You look like you’re about to walk down a receiving line. Why don’t you put on that blue one?”
“You mean the one that shows off my boobs? No, thanks.”
“You’re going on a date, Kira. The whole point is to show off your assets.”
“Is that what they’re teaching you in that fancy smart kid school?”
“Nope, I learned about this on Instagram.”
“I knew you needed less screen time.”
She jumps up, roots around my closet, and comes back with the blue dress. I frown at it and shake my head when she insistently shoves it into my arms. “Put it on. If you hate how you look, then you can go as Goth Laura Ingalls Wilder, okay?”