Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 18755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 75(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 94(@200wpm)___ 75(@250wpm)___ 63(@300wpm)
He knew then that when she came back, it would be to tell him she was leaving—
The door opened again, and when his heart slammed against his chest, it was then Dario knew.
I love her.
It was pathetic, yes, but it was also the truth.
He loved his wife.
He loved her to the point that if she had indeed come back—
The reason why no longer mattered.
And if she came back with demands—
He didn’t have to know what they were.
Whatever she wanted, he would give it.
All he needed was her, and if he had to pretend, the way she told him she had used to pretend in her first marriage, then he would do it, too. Because life with her in whatever form was better than any kind of life without—
“Is it true, Mr. La Rocca?”
He spun around even though he already knew from the voice alone it wasn’t her.
Kendra hadn’t come back.
Instead, it was Bonnie, and in all the years she had worked for his family, Dario had never heard her sound in this much distress.
"Juanito called me. He said you sent Mrs. La Rocca away?"
"Why are you even surprised at this?" he asked hollowly. "You were there yourself when Selleck—"
Bonnie stalked past him.
What the—
It was the first time for the older woman to display such rudeness, and yet he still found himself stalking after her, knowing instinctively that she wasn’t doing this on a whim. But when she ended up leading him to the dining room—
"Do you see this, Mr. La Rocca?" Bonnie asked heavily.
Dario’s steps crashed to a halt by the arched doorway as he saw how the table had been set for a candlelit dinner for two. There were also multiple dishes...of eggs?
"She was planning to tell you she was in love with you.”
“That was then,” he said tonelessly, “when she didn’t yet know about my past—”
“Then what about this?” Bonnie shoved the brown paper bag into his hands—the one Kendra had asked her to pick up at the last minute, and the reason Bonnie had only arrived back now. "Look."
Dario bent down as a book fell out of the bag.
A Marriage Centered on Him: The Best Gift A Wife Can Give
"Do you see it now, signore?” Bonnie asked painfully. “Would she want to give you this still if she was thinking of leaving you?"
Dario stared at the book in his hands. And then at the eggs on the table. And then at the empty doorway his wife had walked through, crying, because he had called her stupid and told her she was nothing but a liability and uncurled his fingers from her wrist like she was something he was letting go of on purpose.
His chest was so tight he could no longer breathe.
What had he done?
Chapter Eight
KENDRA DIDN'T MEAN to cry.
But the moment she was inside the backseat of his car, the tears just started falling, and after that, there seemed to be no end to them.
Even when her eyes were stinging so painfully, and her heart felt as if someone had torn it into shreds, she just couldn't stop crying, and that was why by the time she realized the driver had slowed to a stop—
Her mind couldn't make sense of it at first.
And when the door opened, and Dario suddenly joined her in the backseat—
It was too late.
She tried.
She really tried.
Just like how she had once beat Porter to reaching his phone out of sheer desperation, she was now doing it again, throwing herself toward the opposite door, fingers scrambling for the handle, because she needed out, she needed away—
She didn't care how.
She would throw herself into the highway if that was what it took.
She just wanted to leave.
But she couldn't.
Because Dario was no Porter. Even though he was taller and built like a wall, he was faster than either Porter or her, and he had already caught hold of her wrist before she could reach the handle—
"Drive."
Just one word to the driver, and the limo resumed its journey, and it was the last nail to her coffin. She was trapped in a moving car with the man who had just destroyed her after once promising he would never hurt her.
"I'm sorry."
She couldn't understand where the rawness in his voice was coming from. Didn't know what he was even saying sorry for. All she knew was that she was crying harder than ever, so hard her chest was heaving and her breath was coming in awful, gulping sobs that she couldn't control—
Dario saw his wife’s face start to crumple, and he could no longer control himself.
He hauled her into his arms and didn’t let go even as she fought to free herself. Her fists hit his chest, his shoulders, anywhere she could reach. She pushed and twisted and tried to wrench herself away, and he took every hit without flinching, without loosening his grip, without making a single sound.