Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 84756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Christ. I still need to arrange shooting lessons for her. If she’s going to be my wife, she has to know how to handle a gun.
Not wanting to talk to her in front of Angelo and Dario, I mutter, “I’m busy.”
She sounds worried when she asks, “Are we going to talk about what happened between us?”
“No.”
“Seriously?” When she talks again, her tone is tense. “Fine. Are you going to send me back to my parents?”
Christ. I can feel Angelo and Dario staring at me.
Needing to end the call, I grumble, “No.”
“Then let's talk about the kiss,” she demands.
Not wanting to give anything about our conversation away to the other men, I once again mutter, “No.”
“Damiano,” she says. “You can’t leave me hanging like this. Talk to me.”
I suppress a sigh. “No”
“This is hard for me. I can’t keep living with my life up in the air.”
Fuck. I didn’t even consider her feelings.
Regret creeps into my chest, the emotion foreign and unwelcome.
“I know,” I grind the word out.
“Please,” she begs. “Just tell me what you plan to do with me.”
Gabriella should never beg for anything. Instead, she should lift her chin and tell me to fuck off.
“Christ, I don’t have time for this,” I snap. “Don’t call again.”
I end the call and shove the device back into my pocket.
“Who was that?” Angelo asks.
“No one,” I mutter. “Carlo, take us back to land.”
“We don’t have a choice,” Carlo mumbles. “We need to fuel up if we’re going to continue searching.”
“I need to get to my system at my place,” Dario says. “We’re wasting time out here.”
During the flight back to the mainland, I push my personal problems to the backburner so I can focus on finding Dario’s woman.
Once all this shit is dealt with, I’ll let Gabriella know I’ve decided to marry her. Only then will I feel comfortable letting the other four heads of the Cosa Nostra know about her existence.
At least my mother will be happy to hear I’m getting married.
And me?
Gabriella’s a beautiful little spitfire. At the very least, she’ll keep me on my toes.
The corner of my mouth lifts at the thought. It’s fleeting, but it offers me a reprieve from all the tension bearing down on my shoulders.
Chapter 16
Gabriella
I’m going to lose my mind.
I keep alternating between worrying and feeling angry because Damiano won’t tell me what he plans to do with me.
I’ve been at the mansion for three weeks, and even though I love spending time with Mrs. Falco and Mrs. Accardi, the uncertainty is eating me alive.
It doesn’t help that Damiano hasn’t been home for the past twelve days.
The man laid a life-altering kiss on me, only to disappear.
Earlier this week, it took all my courage to call him, but he was so abrupt over the phone I couldn’t get an answer from him.
And I don’t have the guts to call him again.
Suddenly, a hand settles on my shoulder, making me startle.
“Sorry, cara,” Mrs. Accardi says. “You’ve been so quiet we wanted to check on you.”
She helps Mrs. Falco take a seat on my balcony, where I’ve been sitting for hours contemplating my uncertain future.
I straighten in my chair, releasing the hold I have on the blanket that’s wrapped around me.
Instantly, the early winter chill sweeps over my body, reminding me I need warmer clothes.
Mrs. Falco lifts an eyebrow, then says, “Out with it.”
“With what?” I ask.
“What has you hiding in your bedroom?”
Mrs. Accardi’s gaze inspects my face, her features tight with concern.
“It’s nothing for you to worry about,” I say to put them at ease.
Mrs. Falco reaches her hand in my direction, and I quickly lean forward to take it.
“Cara, tell us,” she insists. “We might be able to help.”
I suck in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, then I admit, “Damiano hasn’t told me what he plans to do with me.”
“Why does it worry you so much?” Mrs. Accardi asks. “Don’t you like visiting with us?”
“Oh no,” I exclaim. “I love spending time with you. I just wish I knew what was in store for me.”
“That’s understandable,” Mrs. Falco murmurs. “I’ll talk to him when he gets home.”
Surprised by her words, I ask, “He’s coming home?”
“Eventually.” She gives my hand a squeeze before pulling away.
“You don’t have to talk to him. I don’t want him thinking I complained to you.”
Because that will only land me in a world of trouble.
We hear the sound of a helicopter, and my head snaps in the direction of the lake.
“That must be Damiano now,” Mrs. Falco says as she climbs to her feet. “Greta, help me to the veranda so I can greet him.”
“Thank you for checking in on me,” I murmur, my eyes darting between the women and the lake.
“Of course, cara. We expect to see you at dinner,” Mrs. Falco says.
“Okay.”
I watch as Mrs. Accardi leads her through my bedroom and out the door, then I turn to face the scenic view of the lake.