Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
“Dante’s here. I packed homemade veggie lasagna to nuke at the office. It’s healthier than pizza and burgers. Do you need help with Claire?”
I smile. “I’m good, thanks.”
Livy grabs the diaper bag before darting to the door. I take the baby carrier.
“Where’s my gorgeous goddaughter?” Dante calls from the bottom of the stairs.
Leaning over the rail, I wave. “Coming.”
Saverio stands next to Dante, leaning on his crutches.
“You sure you don’t want to come?” Dante asks him. “The guys are asking about you at the club.”
Saverio purses his lips. “I have a physio appointment in ten.”
At the bottom of the staircase, Dante takes the baby carrier from me. “Hello, gorgeous.” He blows a kiss at Claire. “You’re going to have a ball today. I got us a stack of Disney movies.”
I laugh. “She’s too young.”
“There’s music.” Dante grins. “Babies are never too young for music. Got all the big classics too.”
When Dante changes hands, shifting the baby carrier to Saverio’s side, Saverio turns the scarred side of his face away from Claire.
“Please tell me you’re not going to make the DJ play Beethoven and Bach at the club,” Livy says. “I like them, but we can’t afford to lose more patrons.”
Dante snickers. “We’ll turn it into a new fashion.”
“You don’t have to come all the way out here to drive Anya and Livy,” Saverio says to Dante, not bothering to hide his irritation. “Kevin can take them.”
“In two weeks, I’ll be able to drive again,” I remind him.
Dante winks. “I don’t mind.”
“I can see that,” Saverio says with a narrowed gaze.
“We better go,” Livy suggests wisely.
Before Saverio’s unfounded jealousy gets out of hand, I usher Dante to the door. I’m about to follow when Saverio takes my hand.
“Aren’t you forgetting something, tesoro?”
The words recall that earlier version of us, the one we returned to last night. A memory of Saverio kissing me in front of the firm brings back bitter-sweet memories.
He reels me in until I stand flush against him, close enough for the heat of his body to wrap around me. I want to burrow deeper and pull away at the same time. I don’t want to be stuck in this strange limbo where I don’t know why he keeps me around.
Yes, he wanted me to leave, and when I made it clear I wasn’t going to abandon him when he was at his most vulnerable, he told me—no, warned me—that I made my choice and that I’d have to live with it now.
If he doesn’t want me for Claire any longer, what does he want? The obvious answer is sex, and it’s no longer enough. I told myself I wasn’t going to fall more for him than I already have, and I haven’t. The problem is that I already lost my heart long before our wedding. It took an explosion to make me realize what I could’ve lost, and it was a lot more than my heart.
I can never lose him. I won’t be able to bear it. I already loved him before—I just didn’t want to admit it—but when he sacrificed himself, I saw a man who was worthy of my love.
Too bad he can never return it.
“Have a nice day, treasure,” he says, brushing his lips over mine and lingering too long, making a show of it for Dante’s sake.
Dante only shakes his head, clearly getting the message Saverio is sending.
Hands off. She’s taken.
I’m quiet on the way to the office, contemplating the plan I concocted while I was awake with Claire during the night.
It’s dicey, and Saverio will be furious if he finds out, but we’re running out of time.
I wait until Dante leaves to do his rounds with the men before I pick up the phone and call Rachele.
She answers with, “This is an unpleasant surprise.”
“I know how to guarantee Elena’s safety.”
Silence stretches on the other end of the line. After another beat, she says, “I’m listening.”
“I need to meet with Elena.” I stress, “Alone.” Taking a deep breath, I plough on. “And you’re going to arrange it.”
Chapter
Fifteen
Saverio
* * *
The bottle of painkillers stands unopened on my desk. Instead, I reach for the decanter of brandy, gritting my teeth against the pain. The physio session this morning was extra tough. It’s not conducive to hover in the past, but I can’t help the bitterness that sweeps through me when I think there was a time I could run hard enough to push my heartbeat to the limit. Now, walking from my desk to the bathroom is an exhausting challenge.
Dante, who sits in the visitor’s chair facing my desk, motions at the drink in my hand. “Maybe you should just take the pills. It’s too early for hard liquor.”
I have no intention of swallowing those pills. The pain grounds me. It reminds me of what must be done. It’s motivation to succeed in my goal, which is to get my mobility back as soon as possible. Until then, I’ll let the constant ache in my leg torment me because as long as it bothers me, I’m impatient to fix it.