Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
As Renzo and Elian predicted, though, they had no reason to ask me questions about my own personal knowledge of the Bratva.
There’d been a few questions about the senator’s shooting, but, again, they were working under the assumption that he had been the target.
Still feeling a little shaky, I made my way back outside with barely ten minutes to spare before I had to meet with Nathan to share the information.
“You okay?” Elian asked, his arm going around me as I slid into the middle back seat.
“That was nerve-racking,” I admitted, leaning into him, borrowing some of his strength. “But I’m going to be really glad to have this all done.”
Luckily for me, things were much faster with Nathan, who agreed to keep his source anonymous, and was eager as hell to get back to his place to be the first to break the news to the public.
All said and done, by two in the afternoon, all of the stress, all of the fear, and uncertainty, was finally done.
Sure, there was still the issue of the Bratva wanting me dead.
But both Elian and his boss had assured me that the situation with them was going to be handled.
Having no reason to believe otherwise, I chose to put my faith to rest in that as we went back to the apartment to hang out with Islah and Cinna and, once word got out that food was being prepared, Serano.
He came in with a small box clutched to his chest, looking almost, I don’t know, sheepish, as he approached me.
“Here,” he said, thrusting the box toward me. “I found this. You want it?”
I reached for the box to see what he was offering me.
But the second I took it from his hands, he turned and disappeared.
“What is it?” Elian asked, coming closer.
Peering in, I saw a small tabby kitten.
“A kitten,” I said, reaching inside to lift it up, hearing its sweet attempts to hiss at me as I pulled it against my chest, half in love with it already.
Elian walked over, rubbing its head as it swatted at him with little needle nails. “It’s got a lot more sass than Kevin,” he declared. “Do you want to keep it?”
I mean… did anyone ever get handed a little kitten and not want it?
“I mean, that’s not really my dec—“
“Gonna cut you off right there,” he said, making my gaze shoot up. “I’m never gonna be one of those men who demands you ask for permission to do shit.”
“Never?” I asked. “Not even if I wanted a dozen of these?”
To that, he looked conflicted. “Okay. Maybe after five pets, we need to discuss it,” he decided.
“That seems fair,” I said. “I mean, we have to see if Kevin likes it. I don’t know if he’s ever been around other cats.”
“Did I hear there was going to be lasagne?” Saff asked as she walked in the condo door a few minutes later as I had the kitten eating some of Kevin’s wet food sitting inside his little box.
“You did,” Elian said, already back to work at layering the sauce, meat, cheese, and pasta for a third tray of it, since it seemed like we would be feeding half of the family.
“Look,” I said, waving toward the box. “Serano found a kitten,” I declared as she went to grab a soda out of the fridge.
“If by ‘found’ you mean he chased it around an alley for the better part of an hour, then sure,” Saff said as she popped the cap of the soda.
“Really?” I asked, looking over at her. “Why would he do that?”
“I think he saw it, thought of how you love Kevin, and thought you’d like this one too. That’s kind of how his mind works, I guess. He’s shit at actually talking about anything, but he’s a man of gestures. Are you keeping it?”
“We are going to see how Kev—“ I started as the cat in question followed his nose up onto the island, looking over the edge of the box, leaning in, grabbing the confused kitten by the scruff, pulling it out, and taking it down with him until he had it snuggled into one of his little beds. Where he proceeded to lick the kitten who sat there a little dazed at having been abandoned, stolen, and adopted by a foster cat dad in the course of a day.
“Well, that solves that,” Saff said nodding. “Do you have a name for him?”
“It’s a boy?” I asked.
“Yep. Are you going to go for another human name? Because I vote for Richard,” she said before grabbing another soda and bringing it over to Islah who was still nursing a bit of a headache, though her neurologist had agreed with the urgent care doctor about her prognosis.
Serano came back in just as the lasagne was being pulled out of the oven, trying hard to avoid mentioning the topic of the kitten he’d gone out of his way to bring to me.