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)
As he mimics the turns of the SUVs, a million questions flood my head.
Why is he following?
Why did he help me during the purity test?
Why didn’t he fight for me?
But the most important question of all… why did he kiss me after the nightclub if everything he did was part of our ploy to deceive Antonio?
No one could see us then. No one was watching. We had another two days before we were scheduled to attend an event with Antonio. Any effect he was aiming for would have worn off by then, so why kiss me like that? Why step back like he didn’t want to take advantage of me and then stroke his cock as if the tension was too much for him to bear?
Before I can hunt for a single answer to the questions clawing at my mind, the convoy slows.
We’ve arrived.
The Adami compound looms ahead, cold and imposing. Almost the entire family gathers on the front stairs, seemingly posing for a portrait. It’s strange. When I arrived months ago, there was no fanfare or acknowledgment of my journey. I took a taxi from the airport and handed my credentials to the security guard at the gate.
I was just another package delivered to their door.
My confusion about the change-up disappears when it dawns on me that today’s arrival is different.
Isabella is fluffing her hair in the front foyer window. Once her curls fall in perfect waves, she checks her makeup and adjusts her dress as if she’s preparing for a date, not a handover.
They’re not welcoming me home.
They’re farewelling Isabella with the hope that her advanced sexual maturity will form a tight alliance with the Carusos.
When the driver opens my door, Antonio steps forward. His hand slides possessively around my waist the moment I exit the SUV, and I force myself not to show even a flicker of the disgust crawling up my spine.
Following the direction of his gaze, I discover the reason for his unusual show of possessiveness. He’s staring at the bike following the convoy. Matteo is still there, watching.
Antonio’s grip tightens. His fingers dig into my waist hard enough to bruise, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from reacting.
I’m just a trade-in, I remind myself on repeat when Isabella gallops down the front stairs, eager to leave. None of it was real.
Matteo doesn’t dismount his bike when he spots Isabella’s approach. He doesn’t offer her a helmet, nor does he acknowledge her presence.
He just stares—at me.
It takes everything in me not to run to him and demand answers, and others are aware of this too.
Antonio’s breath brushes my ear when he whispers words he knows will root my feet to the ground. “If you want to know what happened to Hattie, smile and wave goodbye.”
After mustering an innocent expression, I peer up at him. “What do you mean? Hattie committed suicide.”
He gives me a look—a cruel, knowing look—that speaks volumes.
The dumb act won’t work on him anymore.
His grip tightens again, firm enough to catch my breath.
I should be scared. I should be terrified.
I’m not.
I’m desperate for answers, so I do exactly what he wants.
While pretending everything is fine, I smile and wave.
Seconds later, Matteo takes off like a bat out of hell. His bike skids down the driveway, leaving Isabella in the dust. Her mouth drops open when the convoy of SUVs follows him instead of staying behind to collect her and her belongings.
Unease flows through my veins as she turns to glare at me with narrowed eyes and curled lips.
Shrugging, I step out of Antonio’s grip. “Maybe he didn’t think it was safe to take you on his bike,” I mutter, my voice sweet as poison.
Her face twists, and for the first time since this nightmare began, the faintest spark of satisfaction awakens my heart.
Chapter 31
Matteo
I’m hungover, grouchy, and one wrong breath away from putting my fist through the conference room table, and the worst part is that none of this is anyone’s fault but my own. My brothers are doing something honorable. I should be proud of them, supportive, even, but instead, I sit here with a pounding skull and a stomach full of regret, annoyed at myself for how catastrophically my plan to force Azra into honesty backfired.
My brilliant plan to make Azra tell the truth blew up in my face so spectacularly that I should win a medal for self-sabotage. I thought pretending I wanted Isabella would shake Azra enough that she’d admit she didn’t want to marry Antonio.
She barely flinched.
I must have tickets on myself, because I truly thought she’d react. Maybe not to the degree she did the blonde earlier this week at the gala, but anything would have been better than the silence she gave.
Dante leads the meeting by explaining the situation with Gabriele, the boy Lucia believed was her son for years. She loved him and protected him as if he were her own, and even after the truth came out, she continued to prioritize his best interests.