Total pages in book: 64
Estimated words: 61672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61672 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
A man sits behind a heavy mahogany desk, power emanating from his person. He rests his crystal glass, the ice clinking as they float in tawny liquid. Leaning back in his chair as if he’s been expecting us, he smiles. “Good to finally meet you, Ms. Esposito. I’d hoped to see you four years ago, but better late than never, huh?”
Suppressing the fear surging up my gut, I march across the room. “Where’s my son?”
Enzo Guerriero’s dark eyes twinkle with amusement, his expression reminding me of his son. “You’re spirited. I like that. I’ll be honest with you; I didn’t expect a dead woman to be so feisty.”
“Stop fucking around,” comes Matteo’s clipped voice as his footsteps draw near. “Where’s Jack?”
“He’s a cute troublemaker,” Enzo says, reclining in his big leather chair, as relaxed as he would be if he were at the beach. His salt-and-pepper hair takes on a yellow cast from the fireplace. “He’s safe.”
Pressing my palms against the surface of his desk, I lean forward and glower. I put on the most intimidating expression I can muster. “Where?”
Enzo laughs as though I were a cute little Girl Scout offering him cookies. “I’m glad to see you, Ms. Esposito. I really am, even though you’ve been bad. You’ve caused us a lot of trouble.”
Before I can rain my outrage down on Enzo, Matteo speaks up. “Dad.”
“Sit down, you two. We’ve got some things to talk about. I’ve been waiting four years. You haven’t seen your son for a few hours.” Enzo flicks his fingers, gesturing at the chairs across the desk from him.
A loud slam on the table makes me jump. Matteo’s eyes are ablaze, burning a path of fury toward his own father. “Tell us where Jack is.”
Enzo gives us a flat stare before raising his hands in the air as though he were surrendering. “Okay, okay. He’s safe. Young people these days. So damn impatient.”
The scraping of a drawer against its metal rails fills the air. Enzo swipes and taps on his phone, then holds it up for us to see a moving picture of Jack sleeping on what looks like white bedsheets, his little chest rising and falling with his regular breaths.
“That’s live. So you see he’s fine. I’m not a complete monster. I wouldn’t hurt a toddler,” he says, his tone mocking. Obviously, he finds our distress entertaining. “Now, Ms. Esposito, please sit down, or I’m going to have to blow your brains out.”
“Dad, I swear I’ll—”
“You called, Mr. Guerriero?” I hear a man ask. Turning around, I find a mountain of a man standing by the door, his hand inside his jacket, no doubt already gripping his weapon.
“You sit down too, Matteo. Otherwise I can’t guarantee Ms. Esposito’s safety.” There’s a slight edge to Enzo’s voice. He wasn’t happy when I opposed him, but Matteo going against him is really grinding his gears.
There’s no other choice. We take our seats.
“Isn’t this nice when everyone’s getting along?” Enzo asks. “You should’ve listened to me right from the beginning.”
“What do you want?” I ask.
Enzo raises an eyebrow. “I have the same question for you, Ms. Esposito. Try as I may, I fail to understand why you ran away four years ago, escaping an arranged marriage, only to now play family with my son.”
I guess it sounds ridiculous when he puts it that way. “I didn’t know Matteo was the man I was supposed to marry.”
Enzo steeples his hands. His forehead creases with concentration. “Now that you’ve gotten to know Matteo, I take it you no longer have any objections to marriage?”
“Well . . . I . . . Uh . . . I don’t—” I stammer, my heart thumping in my chest. I glance at Matteo, but he’s staring at me with just as much curiosity in his eyes as his father. “I can’t answer that yet.”
“Why not? You’ve had four years to think about it.” He watches me with his intense eyes. “Let me put it this way. What are your plans, now that you’ve come back from the dead?”
“I don’t know. I . . . Until today, I had no idea this was going to happen so quickly.”
“Dad, we’ve had a long journey. Could you give us a break and do this another time? We need to see Jack.” The way Matteo speaks about us makes me feel less alone, like I have someone fighting on my side.
“I have some questions for you too,” Enzo says. “Why didn’t you tell me you’d found Ms. Esposito?”
Matteo lets out a big exhale. “Because I knew you’d go all mafioso on us.”
Enzo’s booming laugh fills his office. He asks his son more questions about what had happened while he was away. Then, at Matteo’s insistence, he dismisses us.
I lock eyes with the guard by the door. Something tells me he’s disappointed he didn’t get to use his gun on me.