Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
But the balding man reacts quicker, shoving the tip of his gun into the gap so that the mechanism jams and whines.
“I’d stop doing that, if I were you,” the man snarls, voice louder now without the glass separating us. Cold wind rushes in. “Or maybe I’ll start unloading into the car.”
“Snap, we don’t have a choice,” I whisper. “We have to get out.”
“Don’t worry,” the man grins. “We’re not interested in you. Just the girl. She’s coming on a little trip with us.”
My chest seizes and Snaps gaze meets mine in the rearview mirror.
I feel like he’s trying to tell me he’s sorry with his eyes. He reaches across and presses the unlock button.
Immediately, the man’s hand is on me, the butt of the gun pressed coldly into the small of my back.
He marches me into the forest, every step making me flinch at the notion of a bullet tearing through my spine and exploding out of my belly.
“Who are you? What do you want?” I gasp as the soaked underbrush rises up around my chins, drenching my sneakers and sweatpants.
“Just keep walking,” the man says. “We’re not going to hurt you. Don’t worry. You’re with the good guys now.”
Chapter Two
Arturo
“What the fuck did you do, Elmo?” I snarl, pacing up and down my office with my fists clenched.
Elmo flinches every time I come close to him, as though any second I’m going to wrap my hands around his throat and crush it until all the life drains out of him.
He’s wearing his leather jacket and spirals of sweat-damp hair hang at the sides of his head like he’s in the process of being electrocuted.
Elmo stands at about five foot ten, so when I move across the room to stand over him, I’m staring across over a foot of space, my hulking body filled with rage and fire pumping through my veins. Jackal looks up from his sleeping place in the corner, the jet black Great Dane eyeing us curiously, letting out a soft rumble when he realizes how pissed I am.
“You said we needed to make a statement against Franco,” Elmo murmurs.
“I said I needed to make a statement,” I snarl. “At no fucking point did I tell you to gather a team and kidnap his daughter. What the hell’s gotten into you?”
His lips shudder and I fight the urge to punch him across the jaw for showing such weakness.
More and more lately, my consigliere has been making a fool of himself.
But it’s one thing to whore your way across the city and take any woman to bed who’ll have you – and being my second, there are plenty who will – and quite another to make Family moves without my say-so.
“I was just trying to help,” he says.
“You’re on some shit, aren’t you?” I growl.
He flinches, eyes flitting around the room as though looking for an escape.
“Don’t lie to me,” I go on, thunder in my voice. “I can forgive a lot of things, old friend, but we both know that lying isn’t one of them.”
Elmo shifts sideways and walks around me, over to my wide oak desk. He reaches out and idly prods at the world globe there, causing it to spin around and around in its gold-gilded bracket.
Beyond him, the window frames the yawning length of my estate’s garden, the afternoon sun dappling the icy water in the fountain.
I was just thinking I was going to take Jackal for a run around the grounds when I learned about this shit.
Elmo is really starting to push his luck.
“It’s funny, ain’t it, how we were all friends once?” he murmurs. “Me, you, and Franco. We were going to conquer the world together. Where did that bastard go wrong?”
I sigh, grinding my teeth together.
“This isn’t a therapy session,” I snap. “What drugs are you taking? That’s the last time I will ask you.”
Elmo turns slowly, lips juddering some more. The weakness makes me want to beat seven shades of shit out of him, but giving in to my primal urges – for violence, sex, or anything – isn’t what got me to this position.
The Don of a family like mine has to use his head as well as his fists.
“Speed, a little coke, a little weed,” Elmo murmurs.
“Fuck me,” I growl. “You’re going into isolation until all that shit’s out of your system. I’ll work out what to do then—”
I stare hard at him when he opens his mouth as if he’s about to interrupt me. He recoils and shakes his head, offering a silent apology. Then he closes his mouth and looks at me like a little kid ready to take his instruction.
“You’re going to write down the name of every man who agreed to go on this little road trip with you. They need to learn who gives the orders in this Family. Do it now, Elmo. I’m going to send some of my men to put you in a cell. You’ll be fed well. You won’t be harmed. But I’m not having a junkie as my second-in-command. And Elmo, this is your last fucking chance.”