Total pages in book: 52
Estimated words: 51733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51733 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 259(@200wpm)___ 207(@250wpm)___ 172(@300wpm)
Chapter Fourteen
PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE.
Please come after me.
Please say you don't want me to go.
Please stop me from leaving.
But none of these things happened as she ran out of the room, past the crowds in the club, and into the endless night.
She ran without knowing where she was going, and she would have kept running if not for someone suddenly blocking her way—-
Justina?
In Sarica's desperate attempt to avoid collision, she ended up stumbling backward and straight into a mountain of garbage bags stacked against the alley wall. One of the bags burst, and the stench of something umistakably fecal assaulted her noses.
"Oops."
Sarica's heartbreak turned into annoyance in a flash at Justina's tone of sham sympathy.
The other woman made a show of wrinkling her nose even as she offered Sarica a hand, and even though Sarica knew she should just be thankful—-
I'm so sorry, God.
Sarica allowed Justina to pull her up before stumbling forward and wrapping her arms around the other woman as tightly as she could.
Sarica pretended not to notice Justina struggling to be free.
One more second...
There.
Sarica made sure to properly share her new fragrance, Eau de Garbage, with Justina before taking a step back. The other woman looked as if she was about to throw up, but Sarica pretended not to see this as well.
"Are you okay?" It was Sarica's turn to feign sympathy. "I'm so sorry for crashing into you...like...that." Her voice trailed off as her mind started working again.
Wait a minute.
She looked at Justina suspiciously. "What are you doing in New York?" More importantly, did Justina come here with Giancarlo, and oh dear God, did these two marry again for another stupid reason—-
"I never got around to apologizing for what happened that day."
Sarica sobered up at Justina's unexpectedly tight tone. "You don't have to say sorry—-"
"Then I won't."
"But if you insist—-"
"I'm not."
"Please, be my guest." Sarica looked at the other woman expectantly.
Justina was starting to look green again, and Sarica was feeling better and better.
"Sorry."
Sarica shook her head. "What was that? I didn't quite hear—-"
Justina glared at her. "Do you want to know why I'm here or not?"
"But honestly, you don't owe me an apology at all," Sarica continued without missing a beat. "I know I look like a sweet fragile princess—-"
"Said no one ever," Justina snapped.
"But I'm actually very tough," Sarica went on, "and I can totally protect myself. So let's consider the slate clean between us, and we can get to discussing why—-"
"Giancarlo's in trouble—-"
Sarica jerked in shock. "W-Why—-"
"Or perhaps I should say he's still in trouble because someone forgot to rescind her offer for a million dollars on whoever—-"
Justina stopped speaking since Sarica had already gone running back to Giancarlo.
I hope I'm hearing You right, God.
That day in the airport had humbled Justina. It had forced her to take a good, hard look at herself, and what she saw had made her weep. She had been so proud...for nothing. She had thought herself stronger than Sarica...but instead it was the opposite. She had acted like God had abandoned her all these years, but in reality, she was the one who had run away from Him.
Her life had changed since then, and while she was still new to talking to her Father in Heaven—-
I think...I just made You smile.
Didn't I?
Her phone buzzed. It was a text from one of Giancarlo's brothers, confirming that they had received their urgent call for help and was on their way to rescue him. Her lips cracked a smile as she read their message. Mission accomplished. And as she dropped her phone back in the inner pocket of her jacket, that was when she heard it—-
Yes, child, you did.
IT TOOK MERE SECONDS for Giancarlo to realize he couldn't let things end this way between Sarica and him. Making her feel she had to earn his love was the last thing he wanted. He needed Sarica to understand that she was wrong. He loved her. Would always love her. But she also had to understand...it was because of how much he loved her and his famiglia that he had to let all of them go.
Finding no sign of her outside the VIP room was already to be expected. Their first fight in Cayed, and later on, how she had defended herself in the airport, had forced Giancarlo to accept that she was no longer the helpless girl who once needed his protection. She was strong now—-and that was yet another reason she no longer needed an imperfect being like him.
Once he was out of the club, Giancarlo only had seconds to scan the streets before a group of hired muscles blocked his way—-and not a single onlooker cared to interfere as they immediately hauled Giancarlo to a nearby alley.
This was New York, after all.
And one thing everyone did exceptionally well here was minding their own business.