Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
In the meantime, I have to put my game face on, wait for a new report from my men, and try to focus on Emelia. The waters are so fucking dirty in my outfit right now, and we’re under attack. All since Emelia came. There is no way that is a coincidence.
How could her family want her dead? If they wanted to come after me, they could have. But to sacrifice their daughter at that cost, without her knowing? How fucked up. My poor wife was placed in my life as a casualty, and she didn’t even know it.
Emelia breaks our silence and stands. “I’m going to take a bath, if that’s all right.”
I nod and let her leave. I will join her in a minute, but I need a fucking moment alone. I listen to the water run, and I go into a deep trance as I think about my next move.
Today was going too fucking well. I wanted to spend it with Emelia and not worry about this shit, but like always, business will always be my first fucking wife.
Finally, I get up and make my way to the bathroom. Emelia is sitting in the tub and looking out at the Seattle skyline as the sun falls behind the buildings in golden hues.
“Nico, what’s going on?” She doesn't even look at me when she asks this. She keeps her head on her folded arms on the lip of the bathtub.
“Nothing. Let’s not focus on business or anything but us right now.”
This has her shifting in the tub, and I can tell she’s annoyed.“Fine. I can do that, on one condition.”
“What’s that, principessa?” I ask, stepping in and sitting down opposite her.
“I want to know about your parents. About what happened.” She softens her voice, but my back stiffens. I don’t talk to anyone about my parents. That is a hard fucking limit for me.
But if I don’t give her something, she’s going to withhold all of herself from me again. And today was enough to make me realize I can’t do that anymore. I can’t push her out; my body and soul won’t fucking let me.
“What do you want to know?” I ask, my eyes now wandering to the same skyline she was admiring.
“What were they like?”
That’s an easy question. I can do that.
“My mother was kind. Patient. Doting. Everything you imagine a picture-perfect mother and woman to be. It was like she was out of a story book, to be honest.” Glimpses of her smile, the same one I have, flood my memories.
“Really. So you two got along?”
“She was my best friend. Both my parents were, but my mother had more time to spend with me.”
Emelia hums a sound of interest.
“What?”
“Nothing. It's just you are so hardheaded and cold, but you say your best friend was this loving and soft mother.”
I nod.“True, but I said both parents were my best friends. My mother, Lealena, was able to teach me patience and how to keep my cool when things got a little… messy. That’s why I’m so good at negotiating and keeping calm. That’s why I am the devil to most.”
“I wouldn’t know about business dealings, but I will take your word for it,” she adds. “Also, your mother’s name is beautiful.”
“Thank you. She was born in Sicily and moved here with her family when she was six.” I take this chance to ease my twitching palms and reach my now soapy arm out to her to pull her in. She doesn’t reject it. This tub could fit four people, and that makes it easy for her to lie flat against me.
She places her head on my chest and continues.“And your dad?”
“He is where I get my—” I tilt my head back and forth and think of how I should phrase this. “—business side from.”
“Nice. Phrased that beautifully. Was he as feared as you?” she questions.
“No. He was feared, but the game has only become more ruthless, with higher stakes, and more evil since he died. I had to adapt to that. He just gave me the tools.”
“Did he ever, you know, hit you?”
“No. My father never hit me. He had me fight men double my size and train with them, but never did my father hit me.” I look down and see her eyes drop. Seeing her feel the pain of her own parents treating her so poorly only makes my quest to end them that much stronger.
“Emelia, my parents were rare in this world. When my father died, it was because of me and….” I trail off, and this has her eyes back on me.
She moves and straddles me quickly before wrapping her hands around the back of my neck. She begins to softly rub the hair at my nape, as if she knows her touch can fucking center me, which it does.