Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 125243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125243 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 626(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
Elio speaks words I’ve not heard in over a year. “If he’s okay with his needs being met when yours are not, then he isn’t the man for you.”
I was pissed as fuck when my mother said that to the first girl I brought home. I wasn’t treating my first serious girlfriend right—not even fucking close—but I didn’t care since she was giving me what I needed.
Bettina was the first and only woman to break my heart.
Mama said it served me right. That she’d raised me better than to be a selfish man who only looks out for himself. I agreed with her until Bettina’s friends volunteered to kiss my boo-boos better with no strings attached and no stipulations of monogamy.
I spent the final six months of college basking in the benefits of imaginary heartache.
Until thirty-six hours ago, those sexual encounters rated as my highest.
Now they seem like child’s play.
I snap my eyes to Nico when he says, “It wouldn’t kill you to admit you like the girl, Teo.”
I glare at him, silently calling him a fucking hypocrite. He needs to take his own advice, but since I refuse to hang him out to dry as he is me, I remain silent.
It’s a fucking hard feat.
Especially when Vanni says, “If this is purely part of a ploy, I’ve got tips on how you can have Antonio falling on one knee sooner rather than later.” He twists to face me. “But if you’re not wanting to return to your normal life anytime soon, I’ll—”
“It’s a ploy. That’s all it is,” I interrupt, lying through my teeth.
Dante’s nostrils flare like he can smell the deceit on my skin, but he remains quiet.
After a beat, Giovanni says, “All right. As long as you’re sure?”
I take longer to reply than I care to admit. “I’m sure.”
He twists his lips before he moseys to my open bedroom door. I hate what he sees, but it’s gospel. “If you want anyone to believe tonight’s event isn’t a sham, you need to fix her flushed cheeks and neck. There’s a big difference between a sexually relieved face and one so tied up she’s seconds from snapping.” He returns his eyes to me, hot and heavy. “Azra’s is the latter.”
I go still, then nod once, the fight to defend my reputation lost to a hunger so strong it’s deadly.
Chapter 14
Azra
Valentina, Lucia, and Camille’s footsteps fade down the hallway when they finally leave me alone with my thoughts. When the door of Matteo’s room clicks shut, the silence is deafening. I haven’t experienced the noise and chaos of the past eight hours for over four years. I didn’t realize how much I missed female connections and blossoming friendships until now.
Although I’d give anything to bask in their nonjudgmental attention for a few more hours, the memories their unexpected help conjured solidified the reason I’m in Sicily, endeavoring to marry a man I hate.
This isn’t for me.
It’s for her.
After twirling my friendship bracelet around my wrist, I spritz some perfume on my neck and stare at my reflection.
For two women who claim not to be professionals, Lucia and Valentina did a wonderful job polishing me for the gala. They smoothed my hair into soft waves, applied understated yet flawless makeup, and ensured my dress fit perfectly. I look like someone who belongs at a gala—someone elegant, composed, and untouchable.
But inside, I feel hollow.
I am a meticulously made object with a hollow interior.
My fingers tighten around the vanity sink as flashbacks of my time in the abandoned field with Matteo filter through my mind. The way he looked down at me and how his breath caught when my lips hovered over his fat cock have kept the furnace inside me well stacked all day.
The knowledge triples my fury.
He left me hanging. Again!
I shouldn’t care that he’s displaying the selfishness I’ve been surrounded by my entire life, but it’s frustrating the hell out of me.
Is all the tension I feel around him only in my head? The pull, the spark, the way my pulse stumbles when his eyes meet mine—are those feelings solely mine? If so, he should consider a new career. He would make a killing as an actor.
I swallow hard before remembering the reason I’m thousands of miles from home.
With my spine hardened with resolve, I drink in my reflection again. Something is missing. What it is, I can’t say, but it’s as obvious as the ache between my legs that hasn’t eased for a minute over the past eight hours.
“Maybe earrings will help?” I mumble to myself. “Something bright and distracting.”
I push away from the sink and hurry out of the bathroom, crossing the room to my suitcase stashed in the mammoth dressing room. Kneeling, I rummage through a small velvet pouch tucked into the front pocket of my luggage until I find a pair of gold drop earrings.