Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 83408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83408 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
“I won’t,” he croaks, digging his nails into the tops of my shoes, destroying a perfectly good pair of Italian leather.
For that offense, I release the pressure on his throat and force the tip of my shoe between his teeth so hard, I can hear them cracking as he gags and gasps for air. Once I am satisfied that he has tasted the dirt he is worthy of, I smear his bloody spit across his chin and leave him lying there as he stares up at me in disbelief.
“Fucking Moreno.” I spit the words out and retrieve my drink, choking it down in two more swallows. “Get out of my sight. Now.”
He drags himself upright, unable to look at me as he heads for the door with his fists clenched. Judge steps aside, and Abel disappears down the hall as I turn back to the mirror to adjust my clothing.
“I see you haven’t lost your touch.”
A familiar voice echoes from behind me, and when I turn to find my oldest friend, I am stunned by his presence. Angelo Augustine was a classmate back in our Catholic school days. He’s also a Sovereign Son of IVI, hailing from Seattle. We have kept in close contact over the years, but I have not seen him in the flesh for at least six. Letters and phone calls were our only method of contact, given that visiting him in prison was too risky for The Society.
“Should I expect a SWAT team to arrive as witnesses too?” I ask dryly.
He chuckles, but the expression fades to darkness soon after. “I have been released early.”
“How?” I tilt my head to study him. He hasn’t changed much since the last time we met. His features are much like my own. Dark hair. Arctic eyes. He could have passed for my brother and often did when we were younger. Before the explosion.
“Details for another time.” He steps inside the room. “Tonight is about you.”
“You’ll be staying then?” I inquire as I pour him a glass of scotch.
From my periphery, I see Judge nod to indicate he’s going to give us a minute before he disappears down the hall. I wasn’t expecting a visitor, but I’m not about to leave him here without understanding the reason for his return.
Angelo takes the glass and swirls it in his hand, inhaling the scent. It’s a natural inclination amongst the Sovereign Sons. You never know what might be poisoned. But I attribute his actions to memories of times past rather than distrust. If there is anyone in this world Angelo knows he can trust, it is me.
“I wish I could.” He takes a sip and closes his eyes, savoring it. “I can’t be seen by other members yet. The time is not right to reveal my freedom. But I couldn’t let the occasion pass without coming to see you.”
I nod at him. There is an understanding between us that doesn’t need words. Angelo knows betrayal as well as I do, and he is busy making his own plans. As much as it would please me to have him at the altar tonight, I won’t ask that of him if it interferes with his revenge. In some ways, I often think his betrayal was worse than mine. I have Ivy’s father to thank for the destruction in my life, but Angelo’s was his own flesh and blood. He’s spent the last six years of his life caged like an animal for a crime he didn’t commit, and he won’t suffer that slight gently.
He finishes his glass and pours another as he examines me. Angelo is aware of everything that transpired, but he never saw the damage firsthand. I can appreciate that he did not wince when he laid eyes upon me, as it has become a natural reaction from most.
“Nice ink,” he remarks. “It suits you.”
“It serves a purpose.” I reach for a tissue and use it to wipe Abel’s blood off my shoe.
“So, you are really going through with this.” His tone is neutral, but he can’t hide the wariness in his eyes. Angelo knows everything regarding my plans for the Moreno family. While I was recovering, we spent many hours going over the details in code over the phone.
I suspect my friend is concerned for me, but he should know me better by now.
“I am,” I answer his question.
He opens the small wooden box resting on the table beside me, inspecting the rings. “It has all been decided.”
“Yes.”
“And what if it doesn’t go to plan?” His gaze drifts back to me.
I toss away the tissue and wipe my hands. “What do you mean?”
“Forever is a long time to exact your revenge. I should think you’d want an end in sight.”
I turn to study him. “Forever is only as long as it requires to give me sons.”