Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
He arches a brow at me. “Have you ever known me to lie?”
“No.” My last hope deflates as I consider that. “I haven’t.”
“He fooled all of us,” Alessio says. “He wasn’t the man any of us thought him to be. And if you really need to hear me say it, I give you my word that Matteo sent Angelo to prison. That’s a fact.”
Tears hover on the edges of my eyes, and I blink rapidly, trying to dispel them. I still can’t understand it, but I trust that Alessio is telling me the truth.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “For being honest with me.”
As I turn to go, Alessio’s voice stops me.
“I know you didn’t love him.”
I can’t bring myself to face him…because he’ll see that he’s right.
“You don’t have to carry this if you had nothing to do with it, Abella. The crime was Matteo’s, and he got what he deserved.”
I release a shaky breath. “I wish it were that simple.”
“Well, maybe it’s not,” he says. “But if you want this marriage to have any chance, you need to come clean with Angelo and tell him what happened.”
“I know,” I answer. But when I glance over my shoulder, he’s already gone.
21
ABELLA
Ilinger outside the door to Angelo’s office for far too long, considering whether to knock or just open it. Whatever I choose, it will set a precedent for our marriage. Logically, I know that most Mafia wives would knock because with the men in this life, you never know what you’re going to find.
But is that the kind of wife I want to be?
Knocking feels like I’m asking permission, and I’m not a child.
With that decided, I try to settle my nerves as I turn the knob. The door swings open, and two faces swivel in my direction.
Angelo sprawls in his office chair like a king on the throne—leaned back, arms casually resting at his sides, the picture of relaxation. He’s wearing all black today, from his trousers to his button-up shirt that’s rolled up at the sleeves. He looks every bit the dark overlord he is.
Meanwhile, less than a foot away, a woman has her ass planted on his desk, one long tan leg draped over the other as she bobs her heel. Curly blonde hair spills down her back, and when she meets my gaze, I want to vomit.
Genevieve Wilkes has a face I’d recognize anywhere, particularly because she’s been my mortal enemy for the last eight years.
It’s stupid, really. Because at one point in time, we were friends. Like me, her life was on a similar trajectory as a Society daughter. It was widely known that her father was only a signature away from sealing a marriage contract with the Stavros family once she turned twenty. But much to her dismay, Ares Stavros showed little interest in her.
That was when she set her sights on my boyfriend—Angelo.
It started out slowly. Under the guise of being a loyal friend, she’d tell me that she’d heard rumors about him with other girls in the city. Her brother was an associate of Angelo’s, and Genevieve would regale me with stories of their wild parties at Cosa Nostra-owned strip clubs. She chipped away at my insecurities and planted seeds in my mind, painting a grim picture of my future with Angelo. A future where I’d be home alone while he was out enjoying his time elsewhere. She told me not to get too invested. That I deserved better.
It went against everything I knew to be true about him. Angelo had only ever had eyes for me. But my younger, more vulnerable self also knew how this world worked. I’d grown up in it.
She had me twisted up in knots until I caught her trying to kiss Angelo one day. He rebuffed her, and when I confronted her, she told me she was trying to prove her point. When that didn’t work, she let her mask slip and threw a fit, stating that I didn’t deserve him.
At the time, I thought maybe it was a way of getting back at Ares for not wanting her. But her interest never wavered. She followed Angelo around and meddled in our relationship at every opportunity. If there was one thing I could give her credit for, it was that when she made it her mission to ruin someone’s life, she committed with her whole heart.
Back then, Angelo never took the bait. But seeing them together now poisons me with envy. They seem well acquainted, judging by the way she’s sitting on his desk, and I have no idea what’s happened between them since we’ve been estranged. If this is part of Angelo’s revenge plot, I have to admit it’s top-tier. He knows how I feel about her. Yet here she is—on our honeymoon.
“Oh my goodness, Abella,” Genevieve drawls in a syrupy sweet voice. “What happened to your face? You look terrible.”