Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Noah is nestled against him, burrowing into Dante’s side while Dante has his arm thrown over Noah’s shoulders. Seeing them like this breaks my heart for reasons I don’t want to examine. As always, it hurts in a beautiful way, especially how Noah is more taken with Dante than with his cartoon. And that says a lot about Noah’s growing affection for Dante because Noah’s Saturday cartoons are sacred.
My small boy is staring up at Dante’s face with a delighted and expectant expression, bellowing from his tummy every time Dante laughs at something silly that happens on the screen. In Noah’s case, the major attraction is definitely his father. It’s crazy how much he dotes on him.
My chest squeezes with overwhelming emotions where I’m watching them from the doorway. At some point, I’ll have to tell Noah the truth. He deserves to know that Dante is his father. He used to ask me about that a lot around the age of three. I always told him we couldn’t be with his father. He stopped questioning me shortly after his fourth birthday. My poor angel must’ve believed he didn’t have a daddy or that his daddy didn’t want him.
One night, as I put him to bed, he asked me straight-out if his daddy had left him because he was naughty. That he could think that nearly killed me. All I could say was that it was circumstances and not his fault. I told him what a good boy he was, which was true. Noah has always been an easy child. Maybe he sensed how hard I was trying to keep him safe. The danger that always surrounded us was palpable even though I tried to shield him from the stress of that part of our lives.
After an hour of Looney Tunes, they watch a replay of a soccer match. Noah is allowed two hours of television every weekend day. I want him to play and not be stuck in front of the screen all the time. I believe play is an important part of the development of a child’s brain. I’ve read that inventing games stimulates all kinds of cognitive skills such as problem solving and creativity.
In the afternoon, Dante takes us shopping. He buys books and games for Noah as well as new sneakers. We all get a brand-new wardrobe, Jazz included. Only, in my case, Dante chooses the clothes.
He selects fitted dresses in nude pinks and feminine blouses like I used to wear when we started seeing each other. That’s not me any longer, but I have to admit that he has impeccable taste. He goes as far as matching each outfit with shoes and a handbag.
The underwear he picks out for me is lacy and decadent. At least they’re stylish and not slutty. He’s fussy, inspecting each item on show in the store with no qualms that Jazz is witnessing his meticulous lingerie shopping. I’m only grateful that he made his guards wait outside. My face is so hot by the time he saunters to the cashier with a basket filled with thongs, bras, and negligees that I don’t know where to look. No one has ever bought me underwear, let alone a man.
I’m intensely aware of the subtle whiff of his aftershave when his arm brushes against mine as he hands the cashier his credit card. His smell is intoxicating, making me miss things I shouldn’t, such as the warm, strong arms of a man. I’m still aching inside after our rough sex, and I’m thrown off kilter by how much I liked it. The roughness should’ve put me off, but the lingering sensations make me feel special in the way one does when owning a secret.
Jazz was right. I am in danger around Dante. The biggest threat he poses isn’t kidnapping and stripping me of my inheritance. The real hazard is breaking through the walls I put up around my heart. I can’t allow him to get close to me again. Dante doesn’t care about me like a man cares about the woman he loves. He cares about me because of what I’m worth to him as a pawn in his revenge scheme and as the mother he wants to raise his child.
Wait a minute.
My steps falter when we leave the store. If Dante was only using me, why did he take the risks he did? On the night he took my V-card, I asked him to use a condom. He said he wanted to take me bare. And I let him, believing he cared so much about me that he was willing to own the consequences of our forbidden love affair. I always wanted to have children. I wanted Dante’s children above anything. But he wanted something entirely different. He slept with me to gather information on my father from our pillow talk. What if…?