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)
Instead, I put my efforts into what I'm best at—being invisible. When Alessandro has meetings with his underlings, I'm at his side, head down, taking notes. Later, I'll pass through Bellissimo downstairs, taking my lunch in a small corner booth and listening to the chatter around me. No one paid me a second thought in years, and Alessandro's arrival hasn't changed that. I get the feeling that most of the members of our little organization think that I'm dim, and it benefits me to let them keep thinking that way.
Little mousy Emmy. Always underfoot, but rarely noticed. It’s perfect.
Alessandro's arrival was obviously the talk of the town, but there is one subject that still dominates above all others at the moment—who killed Enzo DeLuca? Thinking about my old boss makes my heart ache, and I'm as desperate as anyone to know who the killer was. But no matter how much eavesdropping I manage to do, the answer never becomes any clearer for me.
Everyone assumes it was a hit from a rival family. But something about it just doesn't sit right with me. The murder was clean, with no sign of a struggle. It made me think that whoever killed Enzo was someone he trusted. No one else would have been able to get so close. The previous Boss might have been old, but he was still tough as nails and always armed. When he was shot, his favorite revolver, inlaid with gold filament, was still in its holster, untouched.
I miss Enzo. Of course I do. But there's an electricity in the air now that Alessandro has arrived, a feeling that the entire organization is turning over a new leaf and modernizing in a way Enzo would have never been capable of. I'm not exactly proud to be a daughter of the mob, but it's all I've ever known, and I can't help but be excited for the change. Progress benefits us all.
It's almost eleven o'clock at night, and I'm exhausted. Today's been a rough one. Marco's been a pain in my ass all morning, and the last meeting we attended was an hour-long fight between Sandro and a local bookie. The bookie lost, but Alessandro still spent most of the day stewing.
I've just finished putting the files away when the office door opens and Alessandro stalks in. He's wearing a three-piece suit, and his tie is already loosened.
"Ms. Moretti." He nods, his voice gruff. "Please tell me that we're fucking done for the day."
"Your evening is clear," I tell him. "Unless there's something that needs to be added, your schedule is clear until nine o'clock tomorrow."
Alessandro nods, his eyes fixed on me. I'm used to his penetrating stare, but tonight it's more intense than usual, and I shift, suddenly uncomfortable. "You look tired."
I try not to flinch at the observation. "I feel it, too. Long day."
"Yeah, no kidding. Fuck, I need a drink. Want to come join me?"
I should say no. It's the responsible thing to do. Alessandro is respected and feared now more than almost any other man in the city, and he's asking me to get a drink after work like we're at some normal office. It's a bad idea, but a really tempting one.
"I'm not much of a drinker."
"Come on, Emilia. I've been stuck inside with my own thoughts all day. I could use the company."
The truth is that I've wanted a chance to talk with him alone ever since he showed up. Something about the way he watches me sends a thrill through my veins, and even though I know that it's wrong, that I should resist the urge, I want to know more about him.
So against my better judgment, I nod. "Okay. Yeah, I could go for a drink."
Alessandro strips out of his suit jacket and hangs it on his office door. At first, I'm confused, assuming we're heading downstairs to Bellissimo for our drink. But when he instead approaches the bar cart in the corner of the office, grabbing a bottle of light brown whiskey, I know I've made an error. We aren't having a drink in public. We're having one all alone here in his office.
Joining him for a drink was already a bad idea, but this? It's a whole other level.
"Do you want a glass?" he asks, pulling two glasses from the shelf.
I nod, and Alessandro pours the liquor, his eyes lingering on the way I shift from foot to foot as I stand awkwardly in the middle of the room. When the tumblers are full, he offers me one. Our fingers touch as I take the glass, and his dark eyes lock onto mine.
"Sit down, Emmy," he murmurs, "before you fall down."
There's a short leather couch against one wall, and it's much more inviting than it has any right to be. I sigh as I sink into it, taking a sip. The whiskey is a little spicy and very strong. Alessandro takes the seat next to me and stretches his legs out, resting them on the low coffee table in front of us.