Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 84(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 16787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 84(@200wpm)___ 67(@250wpm)___ 56(@300wpm)
Mia jerks her head back. “He has cancer?”
I nod. “Yeah, I only found out a short time ago. He was getting bad at hiding it.”
“I’m so so—”
“No, don’t be sorry. He deserves what he got, and he deserves what’s coming to him,” I state without an ounce of emotion.
“I . . . I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll call your stepfather and let him know I’m handling everything. My father will no longer be a problem for us, and neither will this ghost hit. There won’t be one stone that isn’t unturned. In the meantime, you’re off on the weekends, right?”
“Y-yeah, I am.”
“Okay, so keep the curtains closed and stay in the apartment. I’ll be back by the time you have to go to work Monday morning.”
“O-okay,” Mia murmurs, and I get out of her bed. I shut the curtain in her bedroom and proceed to walk my naked ass into her living room, shutting the floor-to-ceiling curtains that overlook the water.
“Are there any other windows I should shut?”
Mia’s now in the doorway of her bedroom and the living area. She’s wearing a black satin robe that hugs every curve on her body. “No, there aren’t anymore.”
“Okay. I’m getting dressed, and then I’m heading back to Italy.”
Mia nods, “Okay, but Cillian . . .”
“Yeah?”
“Make sure when you do it that he suffers greatly.”
“I wouldn’t think of doing it any other way,” I admit, walking over to her. I grab her by either side of her face and capture her lips in one last kiss before I go.
Getting back home took longer than I would’ve liked, but I suppose I’d be counting every waking moment until I stepped foot in my childhood home.
Before coming here, I called all my brothers, the ones who share the same father at least. It turns out he’s found ways to meddle in their lives as well. I knew of some. For example, my father was attempting to force my brother, Adrian, to marry someone who he didn’t care for. All for the better of the famiglia, or so he said, but it wasn’t ever about the family. He only cared about his personal power. One way or another, my father has used his children as pawns in his never-ending game, but today, it ends.
I walk in through the front door and know my father is likely in his study. It’s one of his favorite places. I imagine it’s where he makes his plans on how to ruin others’ lives. Sure enough, I find him sitting in his chair, overlooking the acreage on the estate.
“Why did you do it?”
My father turns to face me, an indifferent expression splattered across his face, then it shifts to confusion. “Do what, exactly?”
I scoff, knowing there are so many things I could ask. “I’ll start with the first thing that comes to my mind. Why did you order the ghost hit on Mia?”
“Mia?” he furrows his brows, “That illegitimate girl from your childhood?”
“Mia Russo,” I correct him. She may have been adopted by her father, but it doesn’t make her illegitimate. That would make my adopted brothers illegitimate, and my father would never let anyone say that about them.
“She was a distraction. You needed to be focusing on other things. Why does it matter now? That was years ago.” He says it so plainly, like none of it matters to him. I’m sure it doesn’t.
My phone rings in my pocket, and out of habit, I pull it out. Beretta’s name flashes across the screen, and I answer. “This isn’t a great time, so can you get to the point if you have one.”
“If I have one? Someone doesn’t sound confident in my abilities, and I have something for you.”
“Go on.”
“Your mother was an outpatient at a local rehab. She’d go three days a week while the lot of you were in school, I’m guessing. I was able to get a friend to hack into her medical records, and she’d just hit the ninety-day period when she died. Your medical examiner ruled her death an overdose, but it doesn’t make sense to me why she’d relapse so quickly. I only say that because there were records the day before she passed. I read the progress report, her physician was pleased with how things were going. She was making plans, happy, everything sounded good.”
“I have to go. Thank you for the call,” I grit out and hang up the phone, sliding it back into my pocket.
“You killed her.”
“No, I didn’t! That girl is alive and well, as long as you’ve left her alone.”
I scoff, “So you did put a ghost hit on her. Thanks for the confirmation on that, but I was speaking about my mother. You see, I did some digging and found out you were seen on security cameras coming in through her back gate, then left a short time later—”