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)
“Not a rumor.”
Like a pussy-whipped fool, I fall straight into Azra’s trap. “Then I wonder what he’ll say about the waitress you took home last night hanging around after our reception with the hope of round two?”
“Waitress?” I ask, genuinely dumbfounded.
She gestures subtly toward a woman in a black uniform collecting empty champagne flutes. She could be the waitress from last night, but I can’t confidently declare that. I am unwilling to take my eyes off my wife to see if any of her features register as familiar, and in all honesty, I wouldn’t give a fuck if she offered to serve me pre-dinner drinks naked.
That’s how disinterested I am.
Jealousy creeps up Azra’s neck when the blonde wiggles her fingers my way. She hates that she’s jealous. I fucking love it.
I try not to smile when she instinctively tilts in closer, wordlessly staking her claim. However, a ghostlike one tugs at my lips.
It’s barely visible, but Azra still notices it. “Wipe that off your face.”
“Can’t,” I murmur, deciding honesty should always be the route I take with her. “It’s stuck.” She rolls her eyes, tripling her sexiness. “You’re so fucking beautiful when you’re jealous.”
“And you’re infuriatingly stupid. I am not jealous.”
“Stupid for you,” I say, coasting closer. “Only for you.” This time, her eye roll freezes halfway around. “I didn’t touch the waitress, neither last night nor tonight. I couldn’t.” Her eyes snap to mine so fast I grow dizzy. “Even while thinking you picked him over me, I couldn’t touch anyone.”
A million questions stream through her eyes, but not a single one escapes her lips. She wants to call me a liar, and she has every right when my desperation to get her away from Antonio had me pulling out my biggest lie to date, but she can’t because she sees the truth in my eyes.
She knows right here and now that I’m not lying.
“Tell me what I need to do to make this right. I’ll do anything you ask.”
She doesn’t hesitate. “Tell them you lied and then annul our marriage.”
I ball my hands at her words, but my anger is cool enough to talk through it. “No.”
Her eyes widen. “No? You just said you’ll do anything I ask.”
“I will do anything you ask,” I repeat, firmer this time. “Anything but that.”
She doesn’t look at the guest she’s hugging farewell. Her eyes remain locked on mine as her anger boils over. “You don’t get to refuse.”
“I just did.”
She shakes her head. “You’re impossible.”
“Probably.”
“And selfish.”
“Definitely that.” My witty reply doesn’t even get a hint of a smile.
“You’re going to regret this.”
“Maybe,” I admit. “But I know what I want.”
“And what’s that? The closest woman willing to get on her knees—”
“You,” I interrupt, done playing games. “I want you.”
Pain filters through her eyes like my confession physically hurts her.
She stares up at me, unspeaking and blinking, before she eventually murmurs, “You don’t want me. You just don’t want Antonio to have me.”
“Then why did I marry you?”
Without looking at me, she snaps out, “Because you’re insane.”
“Not really building a solid case, micina.”
She crosses her arms before acting as if I never spoke. “And controlling.”
“That’s not a total lie.”
“But if I had to settle for one thing, I’d say it is because you wanted to ruin my life.”
“That was never my intention.”
She finally looks at me—annoyed, impatient, and done with my shit. “Then why, Matteo? Why did you do what you did? Why did you lie?”
My lips twitch, yet I make no sound. Instead, I take a breath before doing something I’ve never done in my life. I fall to my knees in front of her, the dozens of guests still lingering in the ballroom, and my brothers, who all freeze mid-conversation.
Gasps ripple through the room as Azra’s eyes widen. “What are you doing?”
“Do you want me on my knees?” I ask, voice steady. “I’ll get on my knees.”
Her jaw drops, but her silence announces I need to do more than plead for her forgiveness.
“Do you want me to crawl to you?” I scoot back before flattening my palms on the carpet. “I’ll crawl over broken glass and across continents to reach you.”
The room goes silent, and my brothers stare at me as if I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have lost my mind, but I don’t know how else to prove to her that this isn’t related to jealousy or revenge.
It’s about her and her alone.
“I’ll crawl to you even after you punish me by cutting off my limbs,” I say. “You are my wife. I will never be too good to bow at your feet. You just need to tell me what I have to do to prove that to you.”
She observes me like she’s seeing me for the first time, then whispers, “I want you to let me marry Antonio.” I almost lose my shit until she adds, “So I can make him pay for killing my best friend.”