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)
“If you’re not,” she barks sternly, “you’ll be gone faster than I can snap my fingers.”
Anger flares through me, hot and volatile. “Excuse me?”
Her laugh is low and mocking. “You think he’s doing all this for you? That he’s here for you?” Her words spit from her mouth like venom. “Why would he go to all this trouble”—she waves her manicured hand around the opulent lifestyle I’ve been living for seven perfect days—“for someone like you?”
My throat burns with the wish to speak, but she continues, foiling my chance. “None of this is about you, Valentina.” She says my name as if it’s trash. “It’s because he needs an heir. That’s all you are to him. A prop to be used and disposed of once you’ve given him what he needs.”
I nearly flinch from the callousness of her words, but I hold back. If I show weakness now, she’ll eat me alive. But also, no number of nasty words can make me forget the way Giovanni looks at me, and the tenderness that reflects in his gaze when he props up my mother’s pillow.
He cares for me. A lot.
“No.” I aim for my reply to come out resolute, but it sounds weak, even to me.
What if she’s right?
What if Giovanni did all this because of a child who might not exist?
The thought guts me. If it’s the truth, none of this is real. Neither the safety nor the warmth. And most definitely not the way he makes it seem as if I belong. If it’s all tied to an heir, what will happen if the test comes back negative?
I want to believe in our connection, but I’ve had my heart trampled on before, so I need to be careful.
Still, my backbone remains straight. “I don’t believe you.”
Valeria’s smile is cruel and satisfied, as if I walked straight into her trap. “Then prove it.” She thrusts a box at me. “Take a test.”
When my gaze lowers to her hand, the contents of my stomach rush up my esophagus. Inside the box is an early-detection pregnancy test. It’s sealed and glaring at me in silent accusation.
“No.” Even with my insides a twisted mess, my reply is firm. I may not be as wealthy or as beautiful as Valeria, but my heart is the heaviest thing about me. I refuse to be treated as if that doesn’t count. Being a good person is far more imperative than your dress size and social status. “I’ll take a test, but not now and not in front of you.” She scoffs, but I continue. “I feel for you, Valeria, and I understand how this affects you, but I’m not the bad guy. I am a victim… just like you.”
Her eyes narrow into tiny slits. “You don’t have a choice.”
“I do,” I snap, recalling Giovanni saying precisely that multiple times over the past seven days. “So I’ll only say this once.” I push the bedding aside and swing my legs off the bed. “Please leave my room.”
“Your room?” Her throaty laugh agitates my last nerve. “Even if this were your room, do you truly believe you can order me around? You’re nothing but the incubator of a Caruso heir.”
It takes every bit of my will not to retaliate with violence, but I manage. Barely. “I didn’t order you to do anything. I politely asked you to leave. I won’t be as nice the second time around.” My snarl mimics hers when I underhandedly threaten her. “Are you sure you still want to be here, arguing semantics when Giovanni returns?”
Her smile vanishes before she replaces it with something cold and vicious. “Fine, I’ll go.” Her hand shoots out to grab my arm. “But not until you’ve taken the test.”
Her fingers dig into my skin so firmly I know they’ll leave a mark when she attempts to drag me toward the bathroom. I say “attempt” because her svelte frame can barely budge me. Her struggles make me grateful for the extra meat on my bones.
“Take the damn test, Valentina!”
Pain lances through me when her nails pierce my skin, and I gasp while pulling free. “Let go!”
“Not until—”
The door slams open so fast it smacks into the drywall.
Valeria jerks back as fear fills her eyes. Her panic doesn’t lessen a smidge when she realizes it is Dante entering my room instead of Giovanni.
Dante’s presence fills the room like the gust of a dangerous storm after a humid day. It’s as suffocating as it is liberating.
As his eyes bounce between Valeria and me, he grinds his teeth. “What the hell is going on?” His voice is dangerously low. “I could hear you arguing halfway down the hall.”
“She—” Valeria starts, but Dante cuts her off with a look that could shatter bulletproof glass.
“Out,” he orders, staring at Valeria as if she’s gum under his desk. “Now.”