Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84075 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 420(@200wpm)___ 336(@250wpm)___ 280(@300wpm)
Except there’s a sharp wit behind those shy eyes and it excites me more than anything I’ve felt in a long, long time.
I have to get it together. I have one goal, and that’s to get engaged with her and use her to ruin her family. I’ve been dreaming of becoming Grandpop’s successor for as long as I’ve been alive and this is finally my chance. This is my real goal, my reason for breathing, it’s absolutely everything to me. I’ll do anything to get what I want, and it doesn’t matter if I find her attractive and enjoyed kissing her and liked that little flirty conversation.
I will break her if it means finally becoming the true heir.
“I’ve been debating whether to tell you this or not, but you should go take a peek in the dining room,” Carmine says and clears his throat. “Specifically, the far corner.”
“And why would I do that?”
“You’ll find something interesting there. Or, well, you’ll find two someone’s.”
My eyebrows raise. “This is cryptic even for you. Are you about to have me killed?”
Carmine laughs and shrugs. “Maybe. Did you betray me lately?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Then you should be okay.”
“That’s a huge relief.” I finish my drink and stand up, curiosity getting the best of me. Carmine’s my best friend but he can be terrifying sometimes. That’s what happens when you run a mafia family for years. I keep very strange company—two mafia bosses, a powerful lawyer, and a chaotic hacker, and there’s me, the prodigal son of a wealthy Texas family. We’re an odd little group, but it works for us. “If I walk all the way over there and find nothing, I’m going to come back and be very angry.”
“Oh, no, I’m so worried, wouldn’t want you to get angry, what ever would I do? Go to the dining room, Ford. I already regret saying something.”
I give him one more glare look before walking off. Carmine’s not the type to send me on wild goose chases. Evander, yes, definitely, the Greek bastard is big and crazy. Lanzo, totally, he’s chaos incarnate. But Carmine’s the most grounded of the group, even though he manages a bunch of killers and thieves. Marrying Brice has further mellowed him out, and I think family life suits the guy, strangely enough.
I head through the main lobby and toward the dining room. The staff opens the door for me and I step into a high-end restaurant, free to all Oak Club members. It’s quiet and not crowded, and I linger toward the very front of the room against a low half-wall that separates the waiting section from the tables. I scan the faces, recognize most of them, and I’m about to turn around to go back to the bar to chew Carmine out when I spot her.
Sitting at a table for two in a far corner. A romantic little corner. Lots of shadow and candlelight.
Kat Stockton. She’s sitting across from a guy I recognize named Matthew Keyne, a chinless little rich boy that pretends to be a money manager on Wallstreet. Some worthless trust fund asshole.
What the fuck is Kat doing with a little mouse like that?
It’s like a lioness sitting down with a baby lamb.
I stay put and watch them for a few minutes. I feel like a goddamn creep but I can’t bring myself to walk away. I should head back to the bar, sit down with Carmine, and spend some more time with my friend before he has to return to Philadelphia to deal with his family, but I can’t seem to move my feet. It’s spellbinding, and a strange emotion begins to flicker deep in my body, like an old lighting array beginning to turn on after a very long time in the dark.
She’s listening to some story he’s telling. I can’t tell what it is but she smiles and laughs and pulls on her hair. She’s eating all the while and drinking some wine, and he’s barely picking at a little baby salad. Kat’s bright and alive and effusive—her gestures, the way she laughs, everything is so bold, and yet all she does is try to hide herself all the time—and I can’t pull my eyes from her, not from the tight little black dress she’s wearing that accentuates her chest and her hips, not from the lipstick that makes her plump lips look like dessert, not from her gorgeous eyes or her teeth or her tongue. I think of that kiss and a sudden violent rage rips into me, and the feeling that’s been warming up and getting brighter tears up to the surface, and I swear I see a light red mist.
What the fuck is she doing with him? And why isn’t she doing it with me?
It takes me a few beats to understand what I’m feeling. It’s jealousy, pure and simple jealousy, threatening to throw me into a frenzy, but why the fuck would I be jealous of a little field rat like Keynes? I don’t actually care about Kat, and it doesn’t matter if she thinks she likes a feckless little shit like Matthew. I need that girl, and not because I want her but because she’s the key to getting what I’ve always dreamed about. I have to shove this worthless and stupid jealousy aside and think straight or else somehow that lame little puppy dog Matthew is going to take my dream away.