Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
I lower my drink. “I never said that.”
“You don’t need to say it. It’s clear as day that you like that girl.”
I roll my eyes, but all he does is take another arrogant sip of his alcohol.
Am I that easy to decipher?
“What’s your point, Angelo?”
His face gets all serious out of nowhere. “Talk to her. Apologize.”
“Already did tha—”
“Try again, and this time … offer her something she really wants, more than anything.” He sets his drink down in front of me.
There is only one thing she truly craves, and that’s her freedom. I couldn’t possibly give her that, because it would ruin all of my plans with Lucio. He’d snatch her off the street, make her his wife, and get everything he ever wanted. I won’t allow it.
“No, that won’t work,” I tell him.
“Something other than her freedom.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “How did you know?”
He taps his forehead, then points at mine. “You and I think alike, Matteo.”
“Right, you always were a pest, even when we were younger and still lived with our parents.” I snort.
“Spare me your anger and direct it at Lucio,” he replies. “I’m just here to help.”
I’ve been rummaging in my pocket nonstop to play with the ring burning a hole in it.
“What have you got there?” he asks.
I hold it up and show him.
“Is that hers?”
I nod. “She threw it at me.”
“What did you do to piss her off so badly?”
A smirk forms on my face. “Left her in the shower after I gave her an orgasm.”
He tips his imaginary hat. “I’m impressed. I wasn’t aware you had playboy genes.”
“You learned from the best,” I tell him.
“And now the student has surpassed the teacher,” he jokes.
“You wish.” I take another sip while smiling, but the smile slowly dissipates whenever I think of Stella locked up in her room, all by herself, still seething somewhere in a corner. She’s probably thinking of more ways to escape. “What am I going to do with her?” I mutter to myself.
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” He puts down his glass. “I gotta run. Dad’s waiting for me to return and report.”
“You do that. Tell him I said hi. I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.” I wink.
“I will,” he says, winking back as he waltzes off. “Good luck making things right again with that newly found girlfriend of yours.”
“Wife,” I stress. “And I certainly will.”
“Call me if you need me.”
Sarah closes the front door behind him, and I sit down in my seat in the living room to give our conversation some thought.
Stella deserves to have things made right for her. I’m her husband. I should care for her, nurture her, be there for her, mentally, emotionally … physically.
And I’ve failed on all accounts.
I’ve never felt so goddamn powerless in my life.
Women.
I grumble to myself as I pace about, wondering how I’m going to fix this, how I’m going to cure myself of this poisonous hatred for the Agostinis that’s seeping into my soul, staining everything it touches.
No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, she’ll never forgive me …
Not until I give her a reason to.
I pause and stare at her door.
If I give her the one thing she wants more than anything, maybe she can see me as less of a monster and more of a man. Her man.
I walk up the stairs and head straight for her room, but when I grab the doorknob, I pause and knock instead. I don’t want to bust into her room uninvited.
Planting my head against the wood, I wait and listen for a sign.
“Stella?”
Stella
His voice calling my name makes me look up at the door immediately.
I should ignore him since all he wants to do is use me to his own heart’s content just to avenge his mother, and I refuse to be a pawn in his game. Yes, I tried to use my body against him, but he stole my hand and made me his wife. Fight evil with evil is what my momma always taught me.
But somewhere down the line, everything became blurry. And my heart doesn’t know what it wants anymore.
He knocks on the door again, and I get up from my seat in the corner of the room and walk over to open it myself.
His hand is still midair when our eyes meet, mine stained with tears, and I swiftly brush them away.
“What do you want?”
I’m done playing nice.
“Can I ask you … a favor?”
I roll my eyes, turn around, and walk away, disappointed that all he came to do was ask for more from me.
How much more can I give until it’s enough?
Before I can get to my seat, he grabs my wrist and forces me to stop.
“Come with me,” he says.
I frown at him. “Why?”
He swallows. “I want to show you something.”