Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
I don’t smile back. “Conti doesn’t deserve to live a second longer. And neither do you, Bosco.”
His smile slips. “Yeah? You really think that? You’re such a hard-ass, Evander. Shit happens in war. We fight, we make up, we move on. Don’t be such a pussy.”
“When you see Conti, tell him he should’ve burned with his house.” I lunge forward, grab Bosco by the hair, and plunge the blade into his throat.
He gags in shock. I rip it out and stab him again, and again, each time in the neck. Blood spurts from his wound. A nearby waitress screams and drops her tray. I plunge the edge and saw into Bosco’s jugular up to the hilt before I shove him over, his body twitching, his blood pumping out bright red and arterial. I stand over him, breathing hard, as four Yakuza soldiers come rushing over from the bar with guns leveled.
I stare at them and show my teeth. Their leader, a man named Bob Tanaka, shakes his head. “You’re a fucking mess, Kazan.”
“If you had left a gun like I wanted, this would’ve been cleaner.”
“Guns are loud. Look at my carpet! What a goddamn mess.”
“I need to wash my hands.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Bob waves me away. “Go take care of yourself. Ah, what a fucking wreck.” He barks orders in Japanese to his soldiers as I return to the back room.
Lycus is kneeling on top of the table with Renzo pinned beneath him, his hands wrapped around the Italian’s throat, squeezing hard. Renzo’s face is bright purple, his lips blue and swollen, his legs kicking spastically, and he’s gently swatting at Lycus’s arms like he might break the killing grip, until slowly, he stops moving. Lycus holds him there for another thirty seconds before sighing and letting him go. He sits back on his hands, sweating miserably.
“You good?” I ask.
He grunts and dabs at his face. “Fucker fought back.” His eye is already beginning to bruise.
“You’re good,” I say. “Come on, let’s get cleaned up. The Yakuza will handle the bodies.”
Lycus slips off the table and cracks his neck. “Fucking Italians. Did they really think we’d make peace?”
“They thought they bribed the Yakuza bosses as much as we did. But they were wrong.”
Lycus grunts and stretches his neck. “What now? We’ve got a dead Don and a dead underboss.”
“Their organization will be in chaos. Who knows who will step up to take command, but it won’t matter. By the time someone becomes the new Don, Conti will be dead, and that’s all I care about.” I squeeze Lycus’s shoulder. “They’re fighting for business. I’m fighting for my family, which means I’m willing to do whatever it takes. These complacent fucks couldn’t imagine murdering with their own two hands. There’s the difference between us. That’s why we’re winning this fight.”
Chapter 51
Camille
I sit in the back of the car with Evander, the divider between us and the driver firmly in place. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” I ask him as we glide through downtown.
“A very good idea,” he says, his hand on my thigh. I’m in a dark blue dress with a slit up my thigh and a low-cut front, and he keeps peeking at my tits and my leg. It sends a thrill into my guts, the way he looks at me in this revealing dress, so totally not my style, but he seems to love it. Which is good enough for me.
“It’s just, you keep talking about how dangerous it’s been in the city and how I shouldn’t go to the diner—”
“Trust me.” His fingers dig into my thigh and there’s a smile on his lips. “The Italians are too busy to bother with us tonight.”
He takes me to an upscale Asian fusion restaurant. We’re seated right away by a pretty girl in all black at a good table right in the middle of the vast, open space. The music is loud, and every table is packed, but Evander looks at me like there’s nobody else in the world. We talk about the house, the staff, small and easy things, until our drinks arrive.
“You’re different, you know,” he says with a smile as he sips his whiskey.
“I am?” I taste my white wine and sit up straighter. “How’s that?”
“When you first came to the mansion, you refused to wear the nice things I bought you. Now, look.”
I blush slightly. “You said to wear something nice.”
“That doesn’t mean to listen.”
“What should I say? I’m letting you spoil me?”
He leans closer. “That’s exactly what I want to hear.”
“Yeah, well, okay, fine.” I glare at him for a long second before drinking more wine. “I’m getting used to it, okay?”
“It’s not a bad thing, asteraki mu. You’re allowed to enjoy the comforts I provide. Actually, I want you to. It makes me happy.”