Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Could she possibly date this man even though she had no idea who he was or what he did?
Chapter Three
Progress was made, not that Ruin needed to make any. He’d walked her home and Callie had also agreed to date him. He didn’t need to do any of this.
Flipping his keys in his fingers after leaving her, he made his way back to Frank’s bar. It was now closed, but like all the other times, the door was unlocked—especially when they had unfinished business.
“I don’t like this, Ruin,” Frank said. “You know Dante comes in here and we all know the girl is on his shit list.”
“I know.”
“Why haven’t you killed her already?”
Ruin tutted. “You know I don’t like to tell you of my dealings.”
In his forty years, he could probably count Frank as his closest friend.
“Did you get it?” Ruin asked.
“Yep. One key.” Frank handed him the spare key he’d made for her apartment. “Please tell me that girl is a fucking criminal. She looks like the wrong kind to be mixing with Dante and that crowd.”
“She is.” He slid the key onto his key ring and looked at Frank. “I suggest you don’t ask any more questions.”
“Fuck. Dante has already called to ask if you’ve wiped out the girl.” Frank shook his head.
“Tell him I’m working on it, or better yet, tell him to call me or Giordano for an update.”
Frank winced. “I don’t think Giordano is aware of what he wants you to do.”
“I know, which is why at this time she gets to live.”
Frank frowned. Between them, he wasn’t the brightest tool in the box, but he did know how to cut keys, without any questions. Leaving the bar, he heard Frank slide the lock into place. Frank was deep in with Dante. Most of his clientele were criminals, which made him wonder why Callie had chosen that particular bar.
Heading back to her apartment building, he flicked his keys around his finger, trying to figure out the missing connection. Callie worked for Dante. She was good with numbers, so she’d be in one of his main offices. She wasn’t in his casino, or any of his restaurants, nightclubs, or gyms. That placed her in one of his fronts—companies that were made to look and function like an actual business, but perfect to work money through. That would put Callie in a rather compromising position and one that was highly dangerous. One where she could lose her life.
How?
Again, he knew she was good with numbers and she was a hard worker. All of her previous coworkers before Dante had said she was competent and always got the job done. Nothing out of the ordinary. For several years, she worked for Dante. Then, she was fired, and now he wanted her dead, which told Ruin she had something or she knew something that put her life in danger. It couldn’t be his connections to the mafia, or the fact he was a capo, because that would involve the boss, Aldo Giordano.
What did Callie know? What did she have that she didn’t even realize was dangerous? She wasn’t a woman running scared. She was a woman going about her business like nothing else mattered.
Arriving at her building, he made his way up the steps, opened the door without any code, and then proceeded to her floor. He stood in front of her door and slid the key into the lock. He needed to get more answers and the only way to do that was to go searching and to leave little … problems out of his mind.Entering her apartment, it was dark. He pulled out a flashlight, closed the door, and waited for any sign of life. There was none. Ruin gritted his teeth at her lack of security. Anyone could be doing this. He could have been a fucking rapist or a killer. He happened to be the latter, but he wasn’t ready to kill her just yet. Although, he had multiple opportunities.
Pulling out the security cameras, he placed them around her apartment, from her sitting room to her kitchen. The apartment was small and easy to move around as she didn’t have a lot of furniture or possessions.
He stopped when he saw a picture of her with her parents. She was in her graduation uniform from high school. She never went to college as they’d not been able to afford it. Scholarships had also gone bust at that point, so she took a couple of night classes but they soon faded. Callie had joined the workforce and bounced from job to job.
He moved toward her bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and he leaned around and saw her fast asleep, curled up. It was a warm night, so she’d pushed the blankets off. Her thighs were on display, with the merest glimpse of her panty-covered pussy. The temptation was so strong. He wanted to look at her—to see, to taste, to touch…