Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
I expected her to argue with me, but she simply nodded and then took a seat in one of the rattan chairs by my side. Well, that was a turn-up for the books. An obedient Zola I had not expected.
Chapter 69
Zola
Isaw in his gaze that he’d expected me to be defiant and to argue with him, but I had already promised myself that as long as he was in this state, I would listen to what he had to say. After all, never once had he asked of me something unreasonable.
But this also made me realize I had come to the point in our relationship where I respected him. Enough to pay serious heed to what he had to say and enough to be convinced that his admonitions could be extremely beneficial to me at this point in time.
He stared at me intently, and the more he did it, the more I fell in love with him. I couldn’t look away, but at the same time, I couldn’t stand him looking at me in such an intense way. It was as though he was studying me and I wasn’t confident that whatever he was seeing was in my favor.
I began to admit my flaws. “I'm too stubborn, right?”
He cocked his head. “Yes.”
I felt my face flame. Yup, I asked for that one. I decided to just shut up and turn away to stare at the water. Finally, he did.
“Did Tommy tell you anything that sounded strange?” he asked.
“Tommy?”
“Ugo’s underboss. He was the one that allowed you to speak to me on the phone.”
“Ah, the man who told me he would shoot me in the head if I made any sudden movements.” I thought back to the moment, but I didn’t find anything that stood out. “He was extremely reluctant about wanting me to talk to you. Other than that, nothing else stood out.”
Dante was deep in thought.
“Would he have done it?” I asked. “Would he have shot me?”
Dante’s response was immediate. “No. He wouldn’t have hurt you.”
I was a bit surprised at how confident he sounded about this. “Really? He was very intimidating.”
“He uses violence sparingly and fairly,” he said. “He especially doesn’t hurt women and children regardless of the circumstances.”
“You worked with him during your days with Ugo?” I asked.
Something akin to a smile appeared in the corners of his mouth. “I worked for him. He was Ugo’s second in command. His presence was a breath of fresh air because, unlike Ugo, he was fair, and he wasn’t paranoid. God only knows how many of our lives he saved by talking sense to Ugo when Ugo felt like one of us was plotting something or another against him.”
“So why did he refuse to help us?”
“He did plenty,” Dante replied. “I would never have been able to find you if he hadn’t allowed that phone call.”
“But he didn't give you the address, so how did you find me?”
“Detective Hudgens found the address?” he said quietly.
Something about his voice bothered me. “What’s wrong?”
“Mmm,” Dante said. “For a very incompetent man, the detective sure does have a lot of tricks up his sleeves. All kinds of high-profile cases that should have been taken off his hands and given to more competent teams, or even different bureaus, yet they remain with him. I should have known from the onset that in itself was suspicious.”
“Do you suspect him?” I asked incredulously.
“Maybe. I’ll give him a bit more rope to hang himself.”
He had a simple dress shirt on, with a light blue collar with its sleeves rolled up on his arms. It was left open several buttons down which showed a bit of his chest as well as a peek at the bandage wrapped across his shoulder. His arm was still in a sling which kept it suspended against his chest, but even in this state he still looked immensely in control and regal.
After my visit to Dante’s room, I’d been unable to stop myself from going online, and I had seen a fair share of videos. Seeing him run out onto the road and throw himself completely on top of me, without any care whatsoever for his own welfare or whether he got shot or not was etched into my mind forever. He’d been shot and yet he’d acted like the bullet didn’t mean anything as long as it went through his body but didn’t reach mine. Even after he’d been shot he had pulled me up and run with me, always keeping his body as a shield.
Watching those videos brought tears to my eyes.
Now, as I looked at him and noted the calmness he exuded it struck me how much strength and guts lay underneath it all. How much loyalty and perhaps even care he had for me. I was itching to ask him if that was why he had done it. If it was solely out of an obligation or loyalty to my father, but I was chicken to find out the answer. It would break my heart if the answer was the former. I decided to just believe what I wanted until someone or something contrary was proven.