Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55750 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 279(@200wpm)___ 223(@250wpm)___ 186(@300wpm)
My brother shrugs. “There’s no way around it. Maybe I can pretend I’m somebody else. Paint a few pictures. Read a few books. Yet when it comes down to it, I’ll always be a DeLuca.”
“What happened to you tonight?”
“That rat told me more about Orlando’s plans—the stuff he wants to do. He idolizes the Cartels. He wants to bring their methods here. He wants to open brothels, the nonconsensual kind. It’s a goddamn mess.”
“That will never happen,” I tell him.
“What about you? Where were you? You seem …” He glances at the whiskey. “… concerned.”
“This is my first. I haven’t even taken a sip yet.” He must think I’ve been sinking glass after glass.
“That’s the strange thing. I’ve never seen you nursing a drink.”
I smirk. “I was just thinking that.”
“So …”
After a heavy sigh, like that will relieve this tension, I describe my night to him. I tell him about the kissing and the steaminess. Of course, I don’t include the hotter details, but I give him enough.
“When you heard those high schoolers talking, you wanted that, too?” he asks.
“Did I?”
He laughs gruffly. “Let’s not get into the riddle crap. You don’t have to tell me. I can read you too well.”
“I just met this girl. She’s a stranger. She doesn’t even know I work for the mob.”
“You’re trying to convince yourself it won’t work.”
“That’s because it won’t.”
Picking up my glass, I toss it back, letting the whiskey burn down my throat.
CHAPTER TWENTY
BELLA
“Oh, drat!” Mom’s voice cuts into my dream, jolting me awake.
I sit up sharply, feeling disoriented from the night before. Part of me wants to sink back into bed. I’m pretty sure I was back in the park with Matt, but we weren’t interrupted this time. He tore off my clothes and laid me down on the soft earth, bringing his cock to my entrance, his eyes fixed on me the whole time.
“Oh, dammit!”
I jolt fully awake, rubbing my eyes as I leave my bedroom. I find Emily leaning against the kitchen counter with a concerned look. Walking around the divider, I see a bunch of towels piled up on the floor as a leak expands from the bottom of the sink unit. Mom has her head stuck under the cupboard, groaning as she attempts to fix it.
“Mom, we’ll have to call a plumber.”
Emily looks at me as if to say, “I’ve already told her that.”
Mom pulls her head out from under the sink. “We don’t need a plumber. I just—Oh!” She stuffs her head back under when there’s a sharp noise, and more water spews out.
“I’m calling an emergency plumber,” I tell her.
“With what money?” Mom finally calls. “The callout charge alone will be a hundred bucks, maybe more!”
“I can handle it,” I call over my shoulder.
Going into the bedroom, I unlock my safe and take out the money. It still feels strange holding so many bills in my hand.
“Emily’s calling the plumber,” Mom says from behind me.
I turn with the bills still in my hand. Mom’s gaze moves to them. Her eyes open wide when she sees how many there are. She rushes across the room, her shirt soaked with water, reaching out for the bills with trembling hands.
“Bella …”
“He’s a wealthy man,” I say defensively.
“What’s his job again?”
“Investment.” My tone sounds weak as niggling thoughts whisper at me. His Italian name, easy confidence, the darkness I sometimes see in his intense eyes … “He’s a CEO.”
“A CEO who pays this amount of money in cash?”
“Well, we need a plumber. What do you want me to do?”
“Be careful—”
“This is paying your tuition,” I say, quickly leaving the room.
My tone has come out a little too harsh. I shouldn’t feel the need to defend him so fiercely, but I can’t help it. Emily paces up and down as she speaks on the phone. She holds it to her chest, whispering, “It’s going to be at least three hundred bucks.”
“It’s fine. Just call him out. By the time the superintendent gets here, the whole apartment will be flooded.”
As the plumber works in the kitchen, we sit around the coffee table. Mom takes a slow sip of her coffee, her eyes never leaving me. I can hear the cogs turning in her head as she tries to figure out what I might’ve done to get this cash. It’s like I can see the ugly ideas flitting through her mind.
Mom cleans up the living room table once the plumber finishes and I’ve paid him. After, as the three of us begin our days properly, I can sense there’s a lot she wants to say. She takes her chance just as I’m leaving for the restaurant.
“Bella,” she says, touching my hand to stop me from power walking out the door.
“Yeah?”
“I just want you to know …” She frowns, almost like she doesn’t want to say this. Even if I’m the one supporting her now, she’s my mom, my rock. She always has been. “Although I want to finish my college course, I’d drop out instantly if you were—”