Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76539 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
“There’s a lot to talk about. That night at the wedding—”
“Angelo—”
“You whispered my name just like that if I recall correctly. I’ve been thinking about you for the last couple months, Sara. Every night before bed, I close my eyes and picture you in that fucking cheesy bridesmaid dress looking absolutely fucking perfect, dripping with sin and sex and damp with sweat, face flushed, excitement in your eyes, and you’re sitting there now dressed up and looking like the most fuckable lawyer in existence—”
“I did not dress up for you, asshole,” I snarl at him. “I wore the least sexy outfit I could find.”
“You really think we can ignore what happened?” he asks and his voice softens. “You really think you’re capable of that? Because I promise, my frigid princess. I’m not.”
“Stop it,” I say sharply and take a beat to gather myself. This is not how I wanted this to go, but I can’t let him get the upper hand. This is what Angelo does: he pushes my buttons, teases me, drives me crazy, tries to beak me. It won’t work this time. “I told you then and I’ll say it again: whatever happened, we left it behind. It’s dead and buried. Understood?”
His smile is sharp. “I understand that’s what you want, but you’re not so easy to forget.”
“Try harder.”
“Frigid princess.”
“Massive asshole.” I shove the full glass of champagne away. “Thanks for the drink. This meeting is over. You’re not needed and you’re not welcome. Go back to Philadelphia.”
“You still need my help,” he says as I get up.
“No, Angelo, I really don’t.” I adjust my bag and straighten my skirt and ignore the way he’s looking at me like he wants to drag me back into some empty storeroom and fuck me all over again. That’s not happening, not ever again.
“Who do you think is going to keep you alive through all this?”
His words stop me in my tracks.
He’s not smiling. That’s not some tacky joke. His head is tilted and he’s looking at me intently like he really wants to know who’s going to protect me, and for a second, I start to panic. The weight of this whole thing starts to push down on my chest and I have to lean against the table. I start thinking about my life, and about the life that’s growing in my belly, and I don’t know what the hell I’m thinking getting involved with gangsters and drug cartels. There are five murdered bodies and whoever did it might still be out there, and they won’t be happy if we start looking for them.
What’s a dead lawyer compared to a bunch of cartel men?
Angelo’s right—who the hell is going to keep me safe?
“Easy,” he says, getting up and coming toward me. He puts a hand on my back and steadies me as I take gulping breaths. “All right Sara, you’re fine, you’re okay. Shit, I didn’t mean to freak you out.”
He doesn’t know. He doesn’t get it. I’m not losing it because I’m afraid for myself—I am afraid, but I wouldn’t react like this if it were only me.
I’m terrified for my baby.
“I’m fine,” I say but he doesn’t let me go. He stays there, standing close.
“You’re not fine. Fuck, I meant to scare you a little, not make you spiral into a full-on panic attack.”
“I’m not having a panic attack,” I hiss at him, although I kind of am. “It’s just a lot to process.” I don’t fight him as he helps me sit back down and he stays hovering at my side.
“Look, I know you don’t want to see me. We have a complicated history that was meant to stay history, but—” He leans closer and his voice lowers. “Nicolas is innocent and we need a lawyer we can trust. That’s you, ice queen. And you need a man like me to take care of you.”
“Don’t call me that.” I fan myself as sweat breaks out on my back. “Can you just back off? I’m fine.”
“I don’t want you to fall over on your face.”
“Angelo.”
“All right, understood.” He sits back down on the other side of the table. “I mean it though. Carmine sent me here to do your bidding, but also to make sure you don’t get hurt. I’m not going anywhere.”
I do my best not to groan. I feel dizzy and lightheaded, and all I want to do is curl up in a ball on my couch and cry. This was such a bad idea but now that I’m here, now that I’m meeting with him and moving forward with this insanity, it feels like I’m trapped.
I’m already involved, and I can’t go back.
I have to remind myself why I’m doing this. I’m helping a friend. I’m helping myself move up at the firm. I’m saving an innocent guy from going to prison for the rest of his life.