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)
As we move down the hall, the quiet thud of our feet breaks the hushed emptiness of patients sleeping. “You’re really good at that.”
Giovanni’s confused face is adorable. He embodies a badass mafia boss when he’s barking orders, and an alpha male while rocketing my head to the stars, but when he’s confused, he appears more like a billionaire who gifts all his profits to charity.
“Being a son,” I offer, my tone soft.
His mother has passed, so a conversation like this could be a sore point for him. I’d never be ready if my mother passed.
Lines crease in the corners of his eyes when he smiles faintly. “It isn’t hard.”
We step out into the refreshing night air, stealing my chance to ask if he means it’s easy because of my mother or because of me. I’d say it is a combination of both. My mother is easy to love. She was the epitome of the neighbor mother for the less fortunate children in school. But a part of me hopes it was also for me.
While signaling as if he’s hailing a taxi, Giovanni asks, “What address am I giving the driver?”
“Huh?”
His smirk would have you convinced my daft face is cute. I’m not meaning to seem foolish. I truly didn’t think I had a choice. That’s what last night’s kidnap was about, wasn’t it?
When I express my feelings to Giovanni, he works his jaw side to side before giving it a rough scrub.
“You have a choice,” he says matter-of-factly. “Always.”
Silently and professionally, a driver exits a sleek black car that has pulled to the curb. Giovanni opens the door for me before the driver can round the hood, like he doesn’t trust anyone else to do it. The driver waits for us to be seated before he slots back behind the wheel and seeks instructions from Giovanni through the rearview mirror.
When Giovanni remains quiet, I realize he’s left the floor to me.
“Um…” I nearly suggest my aunt’s place, but the memories of last night crash into me. Since I don’t want to lie in bed alone, staring at the ceiling, wishing he were there, I seek an alternative solution. “Where are you sleeping tonight?”
In less than a nanosecond, Giovanni replies, “Wherever you are.”
Now I’m really confused. Why would he choose to sleep in a rundown building when he has both a palace and a penthouse at his disposal? He’s either a foolish man or a lovesick chump…
My words trail off when the truth strikes like lightning.
He introduced himself to my mother as the man obsessed with his daughter.
My mother’s favorite saying is: If obsession isn’t love, I’ve never loved.
Does that mean what I think it does? Is Giovanni Caruso falling in love with me?
With my head in too much of a state to think logically, I brainstorm out loud. “My aunt only has a single bed, and with my mom at the hospital, I shouldn’t really take it from her.” My excuse would sound more convincing if I could get the image of my head resting on Giovanni’s pecs out of my mind. “Then there’s the villa… but it’s—”
The arrogant tilt of Giovanni’s head cuts me off. His angled chin barely conceals the cocky grin pulling at his lips, and although it should be too early to admit this, his smiles are extremely telling.
“What did you do?” I ask, already knowing that his brash grins are a telltale sign that he’s done something drastic.
Pride flares through his eyes. He’s pleased I can read him as easily as he can read me. “Do you truly think I’d let your aunt return to her home after what we did there?” He bops my nose, distracting my attention from how we christened every surface of her quaint apartment. “Cute.”
He instructs the driver to take us back to my aunt’s building before explaining to me that my aunt is currently enjoying the luxury of a five-star penthouse suite. She has a butler, twenty-four-hour room service, and a live-in maid. He left nothing off the ledger, and it unhinges my jaw.
“What?” I squeak out in shock. “You did that?”
Dark hair falls into his eye when he dips his chin.
“When?” My escape took two hours at most. How could he have achieved everything I’ve been striving to do for years in a matter of hours?
I hate myself with every fiber of my being when he mutters, “Last night…” He internally fights with himself before blurting out, “And most of this morning.”
He wasn’t with Valeria last night. He was with me. Figuratively. This isn’t a paranormal romance.
Giovanni returns my jaw to its rightful spot before he continues convincing me this is a dream. “The penthouse is your aunt’s for as long as she wants it. By what I was informed earlier, she’s settling in nicely.”
I stare at him, words failing me. First he paid for Mom’s medical expenses, and now this?