Heartless People

TEN

Mrder—all I need is u.

—Jarod Kintz

LAUREN

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," I said to them as I stared at the stacks upon stacks of boxes rising to the ceiling of my library.

"Your grandfather never liked computers." Michael snickered as the men brought more of the shit in. At this rate, we were going to be buried alive.

He did this to fuck with me. The bastard knew that I was going to come after his shit eventually. I could hear the old fuck laughing beyond the grave. I would have thrown him in the river, but mother thought it would be best to at least show some sort of respect to our dearly departed grandfather. His body would be buried in the local cemetery, forever separated from his beloved Brazil.

Chris, the giant that he was, dropped the last five boxes around my desk. "Thats all of it."

"Out," I snapped. Everyone but my father left quickly. They hated any paper that wasn't cash.

"So you're going to read through all of this alone?" Michael asked, looking around at what was once a very beautiful green and gold study.

Grabbing one of the brown boxes, I made my way over to a chair.

"Until our favorite snake Aviela slithers out from whatever rock she's hiding under, this is all I can do. Hopefully, this will lead to a shortcut in beheading her. Avielas head rolling off her neck would be worth the oncoming paper-cuts."

"How's Camila?" he asked, grabbing a box.

"I don't—"

"Yes, you do." He cut me off. I hated when people cut me off. "You need help and you're getting help. Now, how is your wife?"

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sighed. "You mean the crazy homicidal woman you arranged for me to marry?"

The bastard snickered. "Yes, that woman, whom you're madly in love with and overly protective of."

"There is no such thing as an overly protective spouse in the mafia," I replied. "And the woman is driving me insane! She doesn't listen to me at all."

"My poor, poor daughter. Have you not learned? Women don't listen, they talk. Listening is our job. In return, we get sex, children and food." He laughed, making light of how chaotic up everything was.

"I'm listening! She's just talking crazy! I swear sometimes I want to ring her pretty little neck. Other times I just wanted to kiss her down to her—"

Concentrate.

"Yes, they do that as well she may be Bloody Camila, but shes still a female, a pregnant female," he stated.

I froze, staring at him. It had been three weeks since the accident and Camz still wasn't showing. She was great, seeing as how neither of us were ready to tell the family. But apparently we weren't careful enough. Camz was going to be pissed.

Maybe there was hope?

Does mother know?

Everyone knows.

Fuck me.

"Urgh—"

"Honestly, Lauren, its been three weeks since shes drank anything but tea and water? She demanded Chris wear new cologne last night at dinner. We aren't brain dead, we can all connect the dots," he said simply, as he pulled out a brown file.

"Great, you can all connect the bullet holes when she finds out," I muttered under my breath; I didn't even know why we had bothered to try and keep it from them.