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)
Fine, Anya impressed him. Hell, she impressed the fuck out of me too, not just for pulling off a scheme like that but mostly for not gambling with our marital vows. However, if he thinks he stands a chance at stealing her, I’ll make what I’ll do to him pretty damn clear.
“Is that why you’re here?” I ask in a clipped voice.
“I’m not going to lie. I was hoping to see her.”
“I’m going to tell you this only once. Stay away from my wife if you value your life.”
“Oh, I value my life.” He puts his scotch aside. “There’s no arguing that.”
“Then what are you still doing here?”
He stares out over the dance floor. “Tell me, Mr. De Luca, what do you see when you look at your wife?”
If he’s going to say he sees a woman who seems innocent and sweet when, under the surface, she’s a daredevil with a genius for numbers and a talent for reading cards, I’m definitely burying my knife in his eyeball.
I watch him from under my lashes. “What do you see?”
“I see a woman who’ll do anything for her family, a woman who’s willing to risk everything to save her husband. Women like that are scarce. If I ever meet one, I’ll be sure to hold on to her.”
“Oh, I’m holding on to her.” I nail him with a look. “She’s not on the market, and she’ll never be.”
“If you ever change your mind, I’m the first in line. Your woman has guts and integrity. She’s loyal. I like that. More than that, those are qualities I respect.”
He takes a bill from his pocket, but I hold up a hand.
“The drink is on the house,” I say, a warning riding on my words. “But don’t make a habit of hanging around places where you may run into my wife.”
“Point taken.” He puts his money away. “Tell your ladybug I say hi.”
He has a nickname for her? Like some term of endearment?
“Ladybug?” I ask, simmering with jealous rage.
“That’s what I christened her for her luck. Those cute little beetles do bring luck, didn’t you know?”
“Yes,” I drawl. “Anya has always been my lucky charm.”
“Please convey my greetings, and tell her if she ever needs a favor, I’m at her disposal.”
With a slight bow, he takes his leave.
Motherfucker.
I feel like punching him. Killing him. I know what it feels like when your wife sneaks around with other men behind your back. Rachele taught me that painful lesson. But Anya said no. And that’s a huge fucking deal. If she only did it because she wanted to boast about being the faithful wife on the surface, she would’ve told me. On the contrary, she kept quiet about Bennett’s sick proposal. Because she did it for the right reasons. She rejected all that money because she made a vow on our wedding day, a vow she very much intends to keep. For that, I can only admire the hell out of her. And I can no longer pretend I don’t trust her.
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
Anya
* * *
Bertrand sits on a bench in the staffroom of the rehabilitation center with his legs kicked out in front of him, balancing the box of doughnuts I brought on his lap.
“Always loved these,” he says, picking out the one with the strawberry icing.
“How are things going? It’s been too long. I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner. I was snowed under with, well, having a baby and running a business while my husband recovered.”
He bites into the doughnut and hums his approval. “You don’t have to apologize. I know your life has been crazy. How is that little princess of yours? Claire, right?”
I’m sure my whole face must light up. “She’s amazing. But you haven’t answered my question. How are you doing?”
“Same old. Nothing much changes around here.”
I motion at his bicep. “How’s your arm?”
“It was just a shallow cut. She couldn’t do much damage with that blunt knife.”
My cheeks heat with embarrassment for my mom’s behavior. Bertrand has only been good to her. That was a shitty way to repay him. “I’m so sorry it happened.”
“Not the first time.” He takes another humongous bite and says around the pastry in his mouth, “It’s probably not the last.”
“Don’t say that,” I exclaim. “I’ll worry for you.”
He finishes the rest of the treat in two big bites and dusts his hands. “Any word from her?”
I rub my palms over my thighs. “She came to the house twice, asking for money and a place to stay, but I don’t trust her around Claire.”
I briefly relay the ultimatum I gave my mom as well as what Saverio told me, that she wanted to see us and that she claimed to have a job and an apartment.
Coming to the end of my story, I frown. “It doesn’t make sense. She’s up to something.”