Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
“She agreed to sell her eggs for money, Giovanni. You’ve clearly overestimated her self-worth.”
Valeria twists her lips, and her leg bounces with anger and something else. Fear, maybe? It’s expected. I haven’t stopped shooting daggers at her since she juiced up Valentina’s veins with a sedative.
“After the doctor mentioned my low egg count, he went over surrogacy options and their financial implications. She’ll get five times what she would have with a simple donation, and that with a standard, everyday couple.” Her huff announces she doesn’t class herself as anything close to standard. “She knows the power she now holds, and if she’s smart, she’ll exploit it for all it’s worth.”
My initial impulse is to dismiss her claims outright and attribute them to her desperation to assign fault. The way she looks at me, however, eyes glistening and pleading, prevents me from doing so.
For several miles, I attempt to talk some sense into her.
Why would Valentina orchestrate something like this?
What could she possibly gain?
Valeria remains persistent. She paints Valentina as a cunning opportunist who saw an opening and took it without a second thought.
“She saw you outside the clinic, walking me in. I’m confident she did.”
Since I’m unable to deny her claim, I remain quiet. Her theories are nonsense. Valentina is different. But I can’t control the memories that surface. For years, women have tried to worm their way into my family’s good graces. They lie, manipulate, and scheme for a taste of the Caruso legacy.
Dante’s baby mama is the most recent and painful example. Her brief intermission in the Caruso household left a trail of chaos in its wake.
Furthermore, I’ve seen what desperation can do. It can twist even the most innocent intentions into something ugly. But Valentina? She doesn’t seem like that.
As rows of lemon groves whiz past my window, I go over every moment we’ve shared, searching for signs I might have missed. She looked at me with an open rawness that was also defiant, and she was clueless of my identity until I revealed my name.
If she’d known my influence aligned with Valeria’s perspective, what was the reason for her repeated escapes?
Because she knows you like the chase.
Loathing my inner monologue, I ball my hands into fists. Trusting my instincts is as natural as breathing, but is an attraction powerful enough to thicken my cock even while I’m being played for a fool impairing my judgment?
In all honesty, it doesn’t matter. Just the memory of Valentina’s lips on mine and the way her body fit against me, as if designed for me, has me willing to hand over every dime I have, so who cares if Valeria’s claims are true?
You can’t be played when you sign up to participate.
Don’t get me wrong, I want Valentina to be innocent. I’d rather she be, but obsession is a dangerous thing. It can make a man rush to his death without thinking twice.
I’m more than obsessed with this woman. I am consumed. Fanatical. My cravings for her are near pathological.
I want her enough that I’m willing to play with fire and risk being singed to ash.
“She’ll wake up soon,” Valeria says, drawing my attention back to her. “And then you’ll realize that I’m telling the truth.”
As the car turns onto the long drive leading to the family compound, I tighten and loosen my jaw. The gates swing open, and the Caruso mansion looms ahead, illuminating the safe haven built for the residents of Carlisle.
Our home isn’t solely the biggest house in Carlisle. It is also the best. Marble columns flank the entrance, and the gardens stretch out in manicured perfection. Fountains and statues that hint at old money are scattered throughout the compound, while the imposing wrought iron gates silently acknowledge our power.
This place is more than a home. It’s a fortress. A statement. Every stone used to build its thirty-six bedrooms is a testament to the strength of the Caruso name. My brothers and I all live here, together, under one roof. Some say it’s old-fashioned, but to us, it’s tradition.
It is what keeps our bond unbreakable.
The compound’s layout offers ample space for privacy but is tight-knit enough that loyalty to the family is never in question. Here, we eat together, argue together, and plot together. Our unity is our greatest weapon, and I’m eager to use it to sail through my latest dilemma.
Inside walls steeped in history, portraits of our ancestors line the halls. While the dining room accommodates fifty guests, the library, game room, and private bar are where the real business happens.
Port and cigars have been part of many agreements struck here.
It’s no secret that outsiders desire what we have. Even those already wealthy will do anything to be a part of our success. They swarm like sharks, seeking invitations or an offer of partnership. Some even dangle their daughters in front of us like prized fish. They want the Caruso name on their side, and the security and prestige that come with being one of us.