Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75472 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Seconds pass, and when I feel something tug at my hair, my eyes fly open.
Mr. Rizzo’s gaze watches me closely while he wraps a curl of my hair around his forefinger.
Confused by what he’s doing, I startle again when Giorgio’s voice booms outside the office. “For fuck sake. Tori, get your ass out of the restroom!”
I hear Big Ricky move, then the hinges of the office door squeak, and he says, “Your sister is with Mr. Rizzo.”
“What?” Giorgio gasps.
I hear more movement behind me, but my eyes remain on the biggest threat in the office. Angelo Rizzo.
“What did you do?” Giorgio hisses at me.
A frown forms on Mr. Rizzo’s forehead, and as he lets go of the curl, I nervously brush my hand over my hair while quickly taking a step away from the terrifying man.
Needing to explain myself, I ramble, “As I came out of the restroom, the office door opened. It drew my attention, and I accidentally saw Mr. Rizzo…ah…do something. I didn’t mean to look. It just happened.” My hand flies to my chest, and covering my racing heart, I swear, “I won’t tell anyone.”
Mr. Rizzo’s eyes flick to Big Ricky. “Escort Miss Romano to a table and get her a cup of coffee while I speak with her brother.”
Huh?
Not sure I heard right, I ask, “I get to leave?”
Mr. Rizzo’s penetrating gaze returns to me. “For now.”
Intense relief washes through me as I quickly exit the office with Big Ricky.
I cautiously glance at Big Ricky, who’s not much taller than me. “I’m really sorry.”
With the corner of his mouth lifting slightly, he nods. “It’s okay, bellissima.” He leads me to a table and nods at the chair. “You can wait here while Mr. Rizzo talks to your brother.”
“Stepbrother,” I correct him. Big Ricky looks the least threatening of the bunch, which gives me the courage to ask, “How much trouble am I in?”
He shakes his head. “As long as you keep quiet, you’ll be fine.”
More relief floods me, and with hope filling my heart, I ask, “Really?”
He nods again before gesturing for a server to come closer. “Bring a cup of coffee for Miss. Romano.”
When the server leaves, Big Ricky looks at me again. “Stay right here.”
I nod and watch as he walks toward a table where three men are enjoying lunch.
Letting out a breath, I slump in the chair while wiping my palm over my forehead.
Dear God. That was intense.
I stare at the table as the terrifying past few minutes replay in my mind.
Crap, I’m going to be in so much trouble with Giorgio.
A heavy feeling settles over my shoulders, and I glance at the hallway again.
I can’t believe I just came face-to-face with Angelo Rizzo.
God, the man is intense.
And handsome.
And freaking scary.
Now that I’m no longer in the direct line of fire, I realize just how attractive Angelo Rizzo is. I understand why Aida, my cousin, was so infatuated with the man when I saw her a couple of months ago at a family gathering.
He might be one of the most attractive men I’ve ever seen, but it doesn’t take away from how terrifying he is. If anything, it adds to it.
Father, it’s me again. Thanks for saving my butt.
My thoughts turn to the murder I witnessed, and it brings all the fear back.
Growing up in the Cosa Nostra, you'd think I’d be used to crime and corruption, but that’s not the case for me. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to seeing someone die.
Just two more years, then you can make a clean break from Giorgio and this world.
Chapter 2
Angelo
As Vittoria is escorted out of the office, I walk to my desk and take a seat behind it.
My eyes flick to Giorgio, who looks like he’s about to shit himself.
He was only twenty-one when he took over from Tony, but during the past seven years, he hasn’t done half the work Tony used to do for me. He also has a gambling problem that’s starting to cost me money.
“I hear you like spending time at Fallen Angels,” I mutter. The strip club was the first business I opened, so I have a soft spot for the establishment.
The club has three sections. Heaven, where customers can only watch the girls dance, and Hell, where everything goes. The gambling room is in the third section, called Purgatory.
Needless to say, the place brings in a fortune.
“Yes, sir,” Giorgio says.
When he aims for one of the chairs by my desk, Tiny places a hand against the man’s chest before shaking his head at him.
No one sits in my presence. Well, unless your last name is Rizzo, La Rosa, Torrisi, Falco, or Vitale.
“What is his tab standing at?” I ask.
I know the exact amount, but I don’t want to give Giorgio the impression I have any interest in his life.