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)
She’ll be thankful that I’ve chosen a good man for her, and in return, she’ll make Dario happy.
I’m surprised when she asks, “Are we going to New York?”
Usually, people don’t dare speak to me without my permission.
My eyes flick to her face, and I notice the red welt across her neck from where Stefano hit her with his belt. The sight of the bruises fuels my anger.
Not bothering to talk, I nod.
“Why are you taking me with you?”
Annoyed by the questions, I mutter, “Silence.”
Relaxing in the seat, I rest my elbow on the doorframe and rub my fingers over the scruff on my jaw as I stare out the window.
I hate traveling.
I hate leaving my house. Period.
I hate people.
I hate noise.
I hate the daylight.
I hate everything.
If it wasn’t for the love I feel for the people closest to me, I’d think I was incapable of loving anyone or anything.
I only care about six people.
My mother.
Carlo, who’s my most trusted man and hardly leaves my side.
Angelo, Franco, Renzo, and Dario – the other four heads of the Cosa Nostra.
Nothing else matters to me. Not even Angelo, Franco, and Renzo’s women. Vittoria, Samantha, and Skylar only fall under my protection because they matter to my friends.
I’ve never made an effort to get to know any of the women, and I never will.
My thoughts return to work, and when I think about the fucker that’s trying to sell drugs in my city, rage burns through my chest. I want Miguel dead as soon as possible so I can focus on the new construction projects that have been put on hold for too long.
Carlo brings the SUV to a stop near the private jet, and not waiting for him to open my door, I shove it open and climb out.
My eyes scan over the area for any threats as the rest of my men spill from the other SUVs to offer me protection as I walk to the plane.
I head up the steps and straight to my seat. A second later the flight attendant places a tumbler of whiskey down beside me.
“Anything else, sir?” she asks, her tone filled with respect and fear.
I shake my head, then my eyes lock on Gabriella as she takes a seat as far away from me as possible. She looks pale as fuck, and even though I can feel the worry and fear coming off her in waves, she keeps her head raised high.
As I enjoy the whiskey, her eyes meet mine, and instead of quickly lowering her gaze, she holds my stare once a-fucking-gain.
Besides my mother, Gabriella is the first woman to look me dead in the eye for longer than a few seconds. Usually, the female species cower before me, unwilling to meet my gaze.
But not this one.
Weirdly, it makes me feel curious to see how hard I can push before she’ll kneel at my feet.
When I tear my gaze away from hers, I notice some of my men appreciating the view of Gabriella’s cleavage a little too much.
Turning my head to my left, where Carlo is seated, I murmur, “Have Gabriella put on a blouse. I don’t want her distracting the men.”
“Okay.”
When Carlo gets up and walks to Gabriella, her eyes widen slightly. Without saying anything, he takes hold of her arm and pulls her up from the seat.
He checks through three bags before finding the one he’s looking for, then takes her to the bedroom. Once she’s inside, he orders, “Put on a blouse beneath your jacket.”
When he shuts the door, I order, “No one looks at the woman.”
I hear a chorus of “Yes, boss.”
“When she comes out, I want her sitting beside me,” I inform Carlo.
I know very little about the woman and will need some information to give Dario. It’s the only reason I want to talk to her.
Gabriella takes a couple of minutes too long before she comes out of the bedroom. Before she can return to her seat, Carlo gestures for her to sit next to me.
Her features tense, but without any argument on her part, she comes to take the seat.
A whiff of her perfume hits me. It’s fresh, and surprisingly, I find myself taking a deeper breath instead of being annoyed by the feminine scent invading my personal space.
She crosses her legs, her movements elegant as fuck.
Gabriella di Bella has the grace of a queen.
Even though her hair is on the shorter side, the light brown and blond coloring suits her. Her slender neck draws my gaze, her skin looking silky soft.
Our eyes meet for a moment, and I notice the green flecks hidden in her light brown irises.
She has beautiful eyes. They’re expressive.
The flight attendant comes to collect my tumbler, then says, “We’re ready for take-off, sir.”
I nod, and as she does her final checks, I put on my safety belt.