Tears Like Acid (Corsican Crime Lord #3) Read Online Charmaine Pauls

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Dark, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Corsican Crime Lord Series by Charmaine Pauls
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
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“Sophie,” he says with such unexpected gentleness that my heart misses a beat. I’ve never heard that tone from him before.

She glances at him.

“Here’s your popcorn.”

She grabs the bowl.

Angelo holds on to it. “What do we say?”

“Thanks,” she says absent-mindedly, her attention focused on the movie again.

When he lets the bowl go, she pulls it onto her lap and stuffs a handful of popcorn in her mouth. “Shh, Beatrice. I can’t hear what they’re saying.”

He leaves the water on the side table and glances at me as he straightens. Worry is etched on his features.

“We’ll be back in a short while,” I tell Sophie, but she’s not paying attention.

Angelo goes ahead of me. In front of the bedroom, he stands aside for me to enter before following and closing the door.

“What’s with this Beatrice business?” he asks.

“It’s her doll. I think it’s a coping mechanism. By projecting her fears on the doll, she doesn’t have to deal with them.”

“Fuck.” He scrubs a hand over his face. “When did she show up here?”

“The first time was little over a week ago.”

“A week?” he exclaims.

“Shh. Keep your voice down. I heard something in the house in the night, and I saw her sneaking out with a box of cereal and a carton of milk.”

“That’s why you wanted keys.” He spears his hands through his hair. “Jesus.”

“Then a cake I baked disappeared from the windowsill. I think she climbed through a window to watch television while I was out for a walk. Fabien must’ve scared her away when he arrived.”

He stares at me with an incredulous expression. “How did you finally catch her?”

“I baked another cake and sat outside, waiting. At first, I thought she was a boy. Until she spoke. I managed to rid her hair of the lice and to scrub her in the bath.”

“Why the hell didn’t you say something before?”

“I didn’t know who she was until today. I saw a handprint on the window and a dent in a garden cushion from time to time, but I didn’t want you to chase the child away. It was obvious that she was hungry. I went looking for her last night after you left, but I couldn’t find her.”

His eyes tighten. “You did what?”

“I had to try. I couldn’t just leave her out there in the cold night. She told me she lives with her brothers in a cave somewhere by the river.”

“Christ.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Don’t ever do that again. The area is dangerous, especially if you don’t know where you’re going. There are gorges and rivers, not to mention venomous spiders and scorpions. If you ever walk around alone in the dark again, I swear I’ll lock you up at night.”

“Aren’t you forgetting the issue at hand?”

“I’m not,” he says, getting into my space. “You are my priority. Always.” He cups my jaw, his grip a little too hard. “Do you understand, Sabella?”

“Yes.” I pull away. “What about Sophie and her brothers? She said their grandfather went back to the camp. A friend apparently drove him while the kids stayed behind.”

“Fuck.” He turns in a circle, his head tilted toward the ceiling. “That old bastard.”

“If she’s your niece, that makes him her great-grandfather. Where is her grandmother?”

“We didn’t keep contact with that side of the family, but from what I learned, the old man had two daughters—my mother and Francesca. Francesca, my aunt, died in childbirth. The baby, Maria, was raised by the old man and his wife. My grandmother died not long after. Sophie is Maria’s daughter. Maria and her husband and their four kids lived with the old man.”

“Why didn’t you stay in touch?”

His manner is curt. “That’s just the way it is.”

“They’re stealing food to stay alive. We have to do something.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?” he asks, facing me.

“I can’t even begin to imagine their suffering.”

“Believe me, those kids are tough. They’re scoundrels, but they’re survivors.”

“They’re children.”

“I know what they are.” His eyebrows snap together. “I’m not going to leave them to their own devices.”

“Why didn’t they stay in the house?” The question puzzled me since Sophie told me they moved to the cave. “At least here they had comforts like water and electricity.”

A muscle ticks in his jaw. “You saw the state of the place when I first brought you here. It must give you an idea of the kind of people they are. They don’t care about luxuries. They don’t appreciate kindness or charity. All they know is destruction and vandalism. They’re savages, Sabella.” The light in his eyes turn hard. “That’s who they are, who we are.”

No matter what’s passed between us, the vulnerability he tries so hard to hide doesn’t leave me unaffected. I can’t help the compassion that sparks in my chest.

Laying a hand on his arm, I say, “That’s not who you are.”


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