Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 22626 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22626 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
As soon as she looks up, she's the only thing I can see.
Her dark hair is pulled into a bun so tight it looks painful. Thick-framed glasses are perched on her nose, a cream sweater covering every inch of her skin. She’s small and delicate in a way that shouldn’t be in a place like this. But she doesn’t flinch when I enter. Doesn’t react like the men downstairs. She just lifts her sapphire gaze, cool and impassive, and meets my stare head-on.
It’s impressive, but it only lasts for an instant, because as soon as our eyes meet, something powerful passes between us. I feel like I've been struck by lightning, an impossible, visceral thing connecting me to this woman. I want her. I need her. It's not desire or lust, although just seeing her has all the blood in my head rushing south.
No, it's more. Something deeper, more primal than anything I've ever felt before.
The realization is staggering, but I can't tear my gaze away. It's her. She's the one. I never believed in soulmates or fate before, but in this moment, I know she is mine.
And from the way her eyes widen, I'd say she feels the same. The woman is a professional, though, and she swallows before pulling her eyes away so she can compose herself. "H-how can I help you?"
"You're the secretary." It's not a question, but a statement. I knew Enzo had a secretary, and I planned on firing her as soon as possible. I don't like other people getting between me and my work. But this woman? No. She can stay. "I'm Alessandro DeLuca. I assume you've been expecting me?"
"Yes, of course," the woman answers. Her voice is melodic, and it's a struggle to keep my mind focused. She stands, hands folded in front of her. "I'm Emilia Moretti. I handled most of the arrangements for the transition."
I take a step closer, reaching out a hand. "A pleasure, Ms. Moretti."
She blushes slightly and shakes my hand. The skin-to-skin contact brings back that shocking, intimate connection again, and Emilia lets out a small gasp. "You as well, Mr. DeLuca."
"Please," I say, smiling and releasing her hand. "Call me Sandro. We're going to be working very closely together."
"Yes, Mr. DeLuca," she answers quickly, and I can't help but smile at the flush of her cheeks. "Of course. You can call me Emmy, then."
I take another step closer. Our bodies are close enough now that I can feel the warmth radiating off her. Her scent envelopes me, a delicate hint of jasmine. She's looking up at me, her full lips slightly parted, and the desire to kiss her is nearly overwhelming.
The door to my left swings open, and the spell is broken. Emilia pulls back, and I look over, annoyed. A middle-aged man steps out. He's got a cocky smile and an easy way about him, and I immediately don't like him. After so long in this business, I’ve grown a sixth sense when it comes to people, but Emilia has me thrown off.
"Mr. DeLuca," Emmy begins, immediately professional once more. "This is Marco Bellini, the late Mr. DeLuca's Underboss. He's been working with me on the transition and has taken the late Mr. DeLuca’s place between his death and your arrival.”
Marco holds out a hand. I can't imagine he's happy with me suddenly replacing his boss, but the look on his face is unreadable.
"We've met,” I answer, my tone cold. I don't offer him my hand.
"Ah, that's right," Marco cooly shoves his offered hand into his pocket to hide the awkwardness of my denial. "Over ten years ago, right? It's been a long time since you've visited, Alessandro."
There's a sneer in his voice, but I ignore it. He's not going to get a reaction out of me, at least not yet. "I've been busy. Anyway, you're dismissed from leadership duties. I've got it under control now."
His lip twitches, but Marco nods. "Yes, Mr. DeLuca. Just let Emilia know if you need anything."
With a quick nod, Marco is gone. As soon as he's out of earshot, I turn to Emmy. "Is he a problem?"
"No, sir." She shakes her head, but her expression is guarded. "He was Mr. DeLuca's second-hand man and a good friend of the family."
"Do you trust him?"
Emmy blinks, surprised by the question. She pauses for a moment, but when she speaks, her answer is vague. "I've worked with him closely for the last week, and he appears to be a loyal soldier."
She's hesitating. It doesn't make me uneasy—Marco doesn't concern me nearly as much as he thinks he should. Instead, I'm beginning to realize why Enzo kept Emmy so close all these years. She's unassuming and quiet, making her the perfect person to keep tabs on everyone in the family.
"Good. He's still useful. Keep an eye on him, though."