Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 84446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84446 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
I fell into one of my books after that, cuddled in bed, pretending I wasn’t waiting for Renzo to come home, to reach for me again, to give me a taste of his attention.
The only kind he seemed inclined to give me.
But when I finally heard sounds from the floor below, it wasn’t just Renzo, coming home to see me.
It was him and all of his friends again, the sounds of their partying filling the apartment, making me very much feel left out and unwanted.
Once again.
I hated myself every second of it, but I sat there in complete silence, barely even letting myself breathe, in case I might miss the sound of Renzo calling for me, inviting me down, introducing me to his people, including me in their merriment.
But the call never came.
And as the stupid tears stung my eyes, I flung off the covers, taking myself into the bathroom, stripping, and climbing into the shower, scrubbing at myself as if I could wash away my own pathetic longing for a man who clearly never thought of me, save for when I was lying beside him.
Until, suddenly, the bathroom door was swinging open.
And there he was.
Despite the sounds of the party still playing out below us.
CHAPTER NINE
Renzo
“We coming over tonight?” Rico asked as we walked back toward the apartment after what felt like a never-ending day full of excuses for why local businesses couldn’t pay up this month.
I didn’t always work as the bagman. That was shit left to lower men in the organization. But we’d been having a lot of problems with the neighborhood lately, and everyone figured maybe people needed to see my shadow darkening their doors.
It wasn’t like they paid for nothing.
Sure, shit was a lot different in my old boss’s day. Back when he charged these people fucking impossible fees for “protection” that never really came.
It was all just an intimidation game.
I wanted to do shit differently when it was my time to run shit.
Which meant that I knew the faces of every shop owner, their wives, their kids. And I made sure all my men did as well. So if anyone seemed to be bothering them, we stepped in, we did something, we made sure these businesses got what they were paying for. More than they were paying for, actually, since all I initially promised was that they wouldn’t be robbed. And if they were, that I would handle that shit for them.
So, yeah, getting told all the work we were putting in wasn’t worth the couple grand they owed us? Not fucking acceptable.
Honestly, until Rico spoke, all I wanted to do was go home and go balls deep into Lore’s perfect fucking cunt.
The problem was, I almost never closed off my apartment if people wanted to gather. Doing so right after I got married to someone a big chunk of my crew didn’t approve of, that shit was only going to fuck with the morale of the whole organization.
“Sure,” I said, glancing across the street toward where a man was looming over a woman, watching until, suddenly, she threw her head back to laugh, then took his hand and pulled him inside.
I couldn’t prevent every case of street harassment in Brooklyn, but I tried to be aware of that shit when it might be happening around me.
“What kinda food do you want?”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said, shrugging. Anything that we provided, the people ate up.
“Anything in particular your wife would want?” he asked, the words landing like a punch, actually stopping me in my tracks for a second.
My wife.
I couldn’t get used to that word, that concept, despite how hard I fought for it to happen.
The ring still felt strange on my finger, but it had started to become a part of me.
But hearing the girl in my bed with her sweet mewling sounds and her loud moans as I touched and teased and fucked her referred to with her title, yeah, that shit was still foreign as fuck.
What struck me even more, as Rico’s brows rose as he waited for an answer, though, was that I had no fucking idea what Lore ate.
I’m assuming she did. Eat. I mean, she wasn’t wasting away or shit like that. But I didn’t know what she liked to eat. What she drank. How she took her coffee.
I didn’t know shit about her.
“Anything is fine,” I repeated, trying to shake off the slimy sensation that started to move over me.
“Alright,” he agreed, heading off to get the food ordered, and likely start calling around, letting everyone know to head over.
By the time I talked to Elian about how the shakedown went, several people had already ridden the elevator up, ready to drink and eat and hang out.
“What?” I asked, seeing a strange look in Elian’s face.
“Nothing, boss,” he said.