Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Does it ever get easier?
Love never came easy, and I learned that at far too young an age from our parents. Love could be as toxic as drugs. It lured you in until you were addicted and then owned every last part of you until nothing was left. Love destroyed my parents.
In the end, love didn’t conquer all and ultimately ruined our family.
Isla and I had gotten close, or as close as one could get without her actually speaking to me. I couldn’t help but wonder what she and Kraven were up to, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t anxious about them spending time alone together.
I can trust my brother, right?
Considering that, most of the time, he made the worst possible choices.
I felt like Isla was finally beginning to show me a side of her she’d never shown anyone, and I looked forward to coming home to learn whatever I could about her. She was a damn good cook and kept the house spotless. There wasn’t a corner she hadn’t cleaned.
She was intuitive.
Empathetic.
Sad.
I’d catch her out on the back porch sometimes with her earphones in, staring up at the sky, listening to the music that soothed her mind. I recognized it all too clearly. Only adding to the realness between us. We were both lost souls, and maybe that was where our deep connection resonated from.
At some point, I’d have to discuss what happened next with each of them. Hopefully, it’d be sooner rather than later. One thing was for sure: I had to hear her voice. I needed to communicate with her, but mostly, I just needed to hear my name from her mouth. It was a conversation I’d have to start with both of them, and I had no idea where to begin.
Shaking off the unsteadiness, I continued to walk down a long, narrow hallway that was nearly pitch black until I approached the double doors of Marco’s office. They were open, revealing a massive area with a black leather couch to the right and floor-to-ceiling bookcases lining the walls. There was a wet bar near the mahogany desk where he was sitting.
There were no windows.
No light.
No visible exits except the one I came in through, with several cameras aimed right at me.
I nodded to them. “Always a pleasure.”
He leaned back in his chair, his golden-blond hair like a halo crowning his head while long fingertips gripped a glass of whiskey.
“Sit,” he greeted.
His grin was a bit too menacing.
His demeanor was a little too relaxed.
I braced myself for what would come, fully aware it’d lead me down a road to nowhere, yet I willingly took a seat.
His intense, ominous brown stare narrowed in, focused solely on me, while two other men stood on each side of him.
“To what do I owe the honor of your presence?” I sarcastically remarked, getting the ball rolling.
He smiled. “I wanted to see you.”
“Well, here I am.” I smiled back.
He sipped on his drink for a second before catching me off guard. “I wanted to talk to you about a permanent position with me.”
“Permanent?” I repeated, leaning back in my seat.
“Yeah,” he said. With a determined expression, he talked it up. “You’re a good kid, and I want to help you.”
“Help me?”
“You know, your old man and me go way back.”
“Is that before or after he fucked you over?”
He chuckled. “You know your father well.”
“I know enough.”
“Oh.” A look of realization spread across his face. “I see. So his debts still come knocking on your door?”
“Not recently.” Unable to resist, I asked, “Have you seen him around?”
“Why? Are you looking for him?”
“Not right now.”
He simply nodded, understanding what I was putting down. “Your old man is an interesting character, no doubt. You’re nothing like him. You’re not like your mother either. You sure you’re not adopted?”
I scoffed. “If only that were the case, it’d make things a lot easier on me.”
“Touché.” He sipped more of his drink. “What if I told you your mom was clean? Huh? Would that matter to you?”
I jerked back, once again caught off guard. “You mean you’ve seen her? She’s back?”
“I’ve heard things.”
I leaned forward, setting my elbows on my knees. “Like what?”
“Ah,” he baited. “I have your attention now? I’d like to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”
“Famous last words.”
He snickered. “I knew I liked you for good reason. You’re quiet, you do as you’re told, and sell twice as much as the college kids I pay for dealing in half the amount of time to do it.”
“You think I can add that to my résumé?” I joked.
“How about you work for me full-time instead, and then you don’t need a résumé.”
“Listen.” I tensed up, about to stand. “I appreciate your offer, truly, I do, but I’m good with the arrangement we have. I don’t need—”