Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
That gets a reaction. Not just from Rocco, but every single person in the room stares at Ronan like he’s gone insane, including me.
“Are you serious?” Rocco asks with an incredulous laugh.
“She’s Italian, you know her, and she understands this business. It’s a perfect fit, really.”
“Ronan,” I say quietly, heart racing. I don’t understand what’s happening. It was one thing, to give me a piece of the chop shop business, but bringing me in like this is essentially making me a permanent part of his business. I wouldn’t be in the family—not a core member of the Hayes Group—but one of many peripheral figures that work for him.
I don’t even know if I want this.
“I won’t answer to her,” Rocco warns. “I can do business with her, but she won’t be my fucking boss.”
“We’ll work out the organizational structure another time. What do you say? Want to make a whole lot of money together?”
Rocco gives the assembled men another long look. The vibe is very different now, and I catch more than a few of the soldiers giving me curious looks. Some of them seem outright hostile: Seamus’s face is pulled in a deep grimace, and he keeps glancing over at another soldier.
“All right, Ronan, I’ll play along for a while. If life’s good, we’ll all be happy.”
“Wonderful. That’s all I want.” Ronan walks over and the two criminals shake hands. Then he gestures for me to join them.
Rocco sneers at me. I stare back at him, feeling lightheaded, like I’m floating up at the warehouse ceiling and looking down on endless rows of field hockey sticks punctuated by the occasional cocaine shipment. How did I end up here, suddenly roped into this agreement? Rocco shoves out his hand and he clearly expects me to shake it.
“Guess I’m working with a Santoro again after all,” he says and lowers his voice even more. “I hope you’re half as clever as your father, kid, otherwise—” He doesn’t finish, but the threat is clear.
Otherwise, I’m going to find myself in over my head, and very fucked.
I shake his hand. “I’m looking forward to doing business with you,” I tell him, and a part of me thinks he can tell I’m very much lying.
Chapter 23
Valentina
Idon’t talk to Ronan on the car ride back to his place. He tries drawing me out a few times, but I don’t give him an inch. The whole time, my head’s spinning as I try to make sense of what just happened, and I’m trying not to explode as the implications become clear.
But unfortunately, I make it barely into his house, before whirling on him. My cheeks are red, and I can feel my pulse in my neck. “You had no right.”
“Okay, okay, easy there,” he says, holding his hands up. He inches past me and goes into the kitchen.
“You had no right,” I snarl as I follow.
He pours two glasses of wine and offers me one. I ignore it, afraid that my hands will shake if I try to pick it up. He drinks from his, giving me a calm and easy look.
“I understand I sprung that on you—”
“You dumped a fucking job in my lap. A job I didn’t ask for.”
“You’re right. I did.”
“And you’re not even trying to deny it.” I start pacing across the kitchen, too mad to stand still. “Do you have any idea what it feels like to be in business with Rocco again? I thought we were going to rip him off and use the meth to extort him, not freaking become partners in his goddamn business.”
“We are extorting him,” Ronan points out. “Only in a way you didn’t intend.”
“My goal was to make him bleed then to take everything from him. Instead, you want me to supervise the asshole, and you’re going to make him rich. That man wanted me dead. Do you understand that?”
He nods slowly. It’s absolutely infuriating, how calm he is. “That was then. It was in the aftermath of a bloody and ugly implosion of a powerful mafia family. He was wrong to want it, and I promise, if you want revenge on him, I’ll happily make sure he ends up dead at his desk one evening. But I want you to think about this first.” He takes a step toward me. I take a step back, shaking with anger, and bump into the refrigerator. I slip away before he can trap me, staying close to the counters. “Don’t you want your family back?”
I stare at him. My mouth opens and my eyes go wide. “How fucking dare you?” I say, feeling like he kicked me in the guts. Doesn’t he know that’s everything to me? Why would he dangle that in front of me, knowing damn well it won’t ever happen?
My father is dead. The Santoro Famiglia died with him. Everything was taken away from me, and some business deal with a former Capo won’t bring it back. I’ve been mourning that loss for a long time now, and the wounds are still horribly fresh and starting to fester.