The Woman from the Past (Grassi Family #4) Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Crime, Dark, Insta-Love, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Grassi Family Series by Jessica Gadziala
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 375(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
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My money was on the latter.

“Smelling like toppings aside, I had a good time today,” I told him, hooping to move the subject away from anything sexual.

“My mother called me and told me you can come back the day after tomorrow,” he told me.

It seemed almost sad, but the way my heart swelled in my chest was testament to how trapped and lonely I had been for so long, that I was looking forward to another day of getting yelled at by my captor’s mother.

“I’m happy to hear that,” I told him, taking a sip of my sparkling water, trying to pretend it was something better. Like soda. Or plain, flat water, even.

“I hear you went to the coffee shop on your break.”

Oh, this was dangerous ground. Especially because I knew it was off-limits to his people. And I had no idea if someone had seen me talking to Massimo.

Crap.

Crap crap crap.

“Oh, was that not allowed?” I asked, making my eyes go round and my lips part slightly, the poster girl of innocence.

Luckily enough, Colin wasn’t as savvy with feminine wiles as he was with other things.

To that, Colin mulled his response for a moment as our food was brought out.

I forced out a thank you to the cook even as I tried not to take deep breaths of the fishiness.

“I see no reason you may not go to the coffee shop,” Colin declared, and the relief was immediate. “So long as you don’t start picking up the toxic beliefs of that owner.”

Traveler, from what I could tell, was a very young, successful business owner who was fully independent and educated.

I couldn’t imagine anyone else I knew personally at the moment that I could look up to more.

“She does seem a bit extreme,” I told him as I picked up my fork to start picking at the bed of sautéed kale under the salmon.

“You need to eat the salmon as well,” Colin chided when I took my second forkful. “Lean protein is important.”

I took a forkful of the salmon and a load of kale, and put both in my mouth, trying to chew fast and swallow.

It wasn’t like I could even wash the taste down with something flavorful.

I just had to struggle until he was satisfied that I’d eaten enough.

“No dessert tonight. Or any night when you visit the coffee shop,” Colin said as our plates were taken away.

It wasn’t like dessert was anything to write home about anyway. If I was lucky, it was raspberry or peach sherbert. I was rarely lucky, though, which meant it was typically a plain yogurt parfait with berries and a tiny sprinkling of granola. Which was pretty much what my breakfast was most days, so it wasn’t much of a treat at all.

“Okay. I understand,” I agreed, getting up from the table and moving toward the door as he rose.

He usually just let me walk away.

Which was why my whole body jolted when I felt him move in behind me, his whole front touching my whole back. And that beautiful dress he made me wear provided almost no protection, no real buffer between us. I could feel his body heat right through the barely-there fabric.

His hand went around me, resting so that his thumb pressed up against the swell of my breasts in the center and his forefinger completely rested beneath it.

I never felt as stiff as I did right in that moment, fear and disgust creating a sick feeling in my stomach and a clamminess on my skin.

Colin leaned downward and used his free hand to sweep my hair off of one side of my neck so he could lean down and nearly press his nose to the skin there, taking a deep breath.

“I do prefer the scent of your soap to onions and vinegar,” he declared, and I had to bite my lower lip to keep it from trembling as my mind raced with all the ways this could go terribly. Just on the brink of freedom. “Go get some rest, Cameron,” he demanded, and I wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not but his thumb brushed over the whole swell of my breast as he released me.

It took every bit of self-control I possessed not to run away from him right then.

I managed to keep my gait quick, but not overly hurried until I hit the steps in the garage, which I ran up, rushing into my apartment, locking the door, and falling against it just as a strange whimpering sob escaped me.

I bet he knew it, too. Even without seeing, without hearing. I bet he knew that was what he was doing to me.

He got off on that.

The sick bastard.

But it was okay. It was fine. I was fine. I needed to pull myself together. Nothing… much happened. Had things escalated a bit? Yes. It was a graze. Unwanted. Uninvited. But I could call myself lucky that it was only a graze. It absolutely could have been worse.



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