Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
When I’m done, I walk back to him, stop, and wait. He doesn’t budge. I’m acutely aware of the bulge in his pants and the tension radiating from him.
“If you’re waiting for me to return the favor, you’ll wait a long time,” I say.
His lips curve into a humorless smile. “You reckon? I can make you go down on your knees right this moment and swallow my cock.”
I lift my chin to meet his gaze. “Why don’t you?”
He clenches his jaw, regarding me with a broody expression.
I’m not sure what changed. Making me come shifted something between us. I’m still scared, but I’m no longer terrified. I don’t think he’ll kill me. On the other hand, I’m never sure what to expect from him.
“I want you to tell me how you got into my house,” I say. “And then you can leave.”
A cruel glint sparks in his eyes. “You’re not going to bite the hand that feeds you, are you?”
My pulse flutters in my neck. “I don’t know what you’re implying. This has to stop, Angelo. You got what you wanted a long time ago. I need you to leave me alone. I want you to get the hell out of my house. Now.”
His smile is calculated. “You can’t kick me out of my own house.”
His words are like a slap in my face. I reel from the impact. I can only look at him, shaking my head, because he can’t mean what I think he does.
He raises a brow. “Didn’t your brother tell you?”
A sick feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. “Tell me what?”
“This house, your car, your bills, your studies…you didn’t think Ryan was paying for everything?”
I stare at him in horror.
“That’s right, cara.” He drops his arms at his sides. “I’ve been taking care of you for a long time already.” He advances a step, putting us toe to toe. “As is my duty.” He adds with a mocking tilt of his lips, “However, showing a little gratitude won’t hurt you.”
Gasping for air, I fight an urge to hyperventilate. It can’t be true. Why would Ryan do that to me? I can’t handle more lies from someone in my family I trusted.
“That’s right,” he says, caressing my cheek with the back of his hand. “You’re mine to feed and clothe and keep safe. I hope the house pleases you. I thought you’d like it, knowing how much you love the beach and the sea.”
It’s too much to process. My head spins. Placing a palm over my stomach where the betrayal burns like a flaming torch, I back up to the center of the room. All this time, I lived on Angelo Russo’s money. The worst is that Ryan let me.
Why?
“I can see this comes as a shock to you,” Angelo says, stalking after me. “So I’ll give you a little time to get over it.” He takes something from his pocket. “Twenty-four hours, bella.” Gripping my left hand in his, he slides a ring over my finger. “Then you’re mine in every way.”
My hand trembles in his hold. I look down. A huge solitaire diamond sparkles on my ring finger.
“No,” I say, breathless, shaking my head again.
“I promised you.” His tone carries a warning. “I told you I’d put that ring on your finger. Tomorrow, Sabella. In twenty-four hours, we’ll get married in front of a magistrate.” He drops my hand. “That should give you enough time to get your things in order.”
I sound like a robot. “Married? My things in order?”
The lines of his face turn hard. “You’re coming back to Corsica with me.”
The statement sounds more like a threat. The declaration takes the wind out of my sails.
“What about my studies?” I exclaim. “I can’t just pack up and leave.”
“I already informed the university that you’re dropping out.”
I’m at a loss for words. I have no ammunition or defenses. Once more, I can only stand there on shaky legs and stare at him as he turns and leaves.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
Angelo
* * *
The truth hurt Sabella. I saw it in her pretty soft brown eyes, those eyes that remind me of a tigress. Her brother never told her, and I can’t figure out why. To protect her feelings? Her fragile pride? I sure as hell didn’t have any regard for her pride today. Slaying her wasn’t my intention, especially not on her birthday, and a rare sliver of guilt pierces my conscience.
Because her birthday will never be special for her again.
There’s no point in lying about it. From the day I used her, the date that’s supposed to be a celebration of her existence will always leave a bitter taste in her mouth. I did what I did for us to be together. I told her more than once. But that won’t matter to her, because I did it for me.