Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 295(@200wpm)___ 236(@250wpm)___ 197(@300wpm)
I inwardly cringe at his words. “Yeah…”
“I know you haven’t seen him in a while, but he’s always looked at you like a daughter.”
Okay, this just keeps getting worse.
I stand by the door for a moment, my gaze lingering on my car. I could duck out right now and leave. Sure, it would probably make my dad angry, but at least I wouldn’t have to go back and face Troy, who regrets everything that happened.
“Come on,” Dad calls for me. “Text Beth and cancel.”
I roll my eyes. My dad’s mannerisms are annoying, as usual. He’s a big-time guy in the investment world, and he has pull in a lot of places, though he’s never told me how or why. Since my mom left when I was just a girl, he’s stayed tight-lipped about his business.
“I thought you said you had to go?” Troy asks me through gritted teeth as I step back into the kitchen beside my dad. He’s nonchalantly sipping on a glass of wine—the same wine we were drinking before.
“She’s staying,” Dad remarks, his tone sharper than I expected. “We have things we need to talk about.”
I feel like I might pass out. Troy sighs heavily; if he’s nervous, he doesn’t show it.
“I figured one day we would have to have this conversation.”
What conversation?
“Before we go there, did Nick reach out to you?” Troy folds his arms across his chest, and I can’t help but ogle his thick, muscular arms.
Ugh, we were so close.
My core tingles at the thought of what could’ve been as my eyes linger on his body. Troy appears to be relaxed, and I have no idea how.
“Nick called, yes,” Dad grunts, shaking his head in a way that grabs my attention. “He’s exactly why we need to talk to Lizzie. He’s making a mess of things, Troy, and you know what happens when you piss off a man like Vitali.”
Who the hell is Vitali?
I lean against the counter, eyeing the stool I was sitting on moments before. My feet are beginning to ache from these heels that I never wear. “Can we sit in the living room or something?” I offer up, giving my dad a weak smile. “These shoes are killing my feet.”
I also don’t want to look at the place where your best friend was eating me out.
“Sure,” Dad says, smiling at me. He’s a strong Italian man with a menacing, elongated nose and deep brown eyes. He is a good few inches taller than Troy but slender. My dad was a runner, and you can tell Troy spent a lot of time lifting weights.
“Would you like a glass of wine?” Troy offers me, his voice calm and relaxed. “I know you already had one, but you might want another once this conversation begins.”
I take a shallow breath, catching his stare drop to my cleavage for a split second. “Okay, yeah, I’ll have another glass.”
He nods, tops mine off, pours Dad a fresh one, and then makes one for himself. “Are you sure you want to do this tonight, Henry?”
Dad nods as we head to the sitting room. “Yeah, I know we were going to let her get settled in the firm beforehand, but I think she should know. I want to get Philip and Gerard assigned to her immediately.”
“What?” I demand, narrowing my eyes at him before I sit back on the black velvet couch. “I don’t want bodyguards. You might be rich, but I’m not. No one is going to try to rob me. I barely make enough to afford my apartment.” The moment the words leave my lips, I regret them.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were struggling to pay rent?” he exasperates. “You know that you can access funds whenever you need them. You just have to call Cecelia. She can take care of it.”
I shake my head. “I want to make it on my own.”
“That’s what you’ve been doing since you went to college,” Dad snaps. “Now it’s time to get back to the real world. You’re my only child, and this business is your business.”
I steal a glance at Troy as he sits in a large armchair. He meets my gaze, but only for a split second—not long enough for me to read his expression. I hate having this conversation with my dad in front of him. It’s embarrassing and makes me feel like a child all over again.
“Liz,” my dad snaps my attention back. “I’m not kidding. You can’t live in a bubble anymore.”
I set the wine glass down on the table. “I don’t live in a bubble.”
“Well, I guess it’s high time that you know.”
“Know what?” I demand.
“I work for the Italian Mafia.”
CHAPTER 4
Troy
She looks pissed.
I won’t lie. It’s a fucking good look on her. Her bright baby blues are on fire beneath the tuft of hair falling in her eyes, and I lick my lower lip, the wine still not having washed away the taste of her. I want nothing more than to bend her over and make her mine.