Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34419 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
So I do as he asks, and he turns out to be right...since what's inside is nothing but a beautiful pen with my name engraved on it...and a contract that just happens to require my signature.
This is actually what tonight's dinner is all about, with Greg having pointed out in our last Zoom meeting that celebrating my inheritance is also one way of honoring Pilar's memory.
I sign my name on each page of the contract, and Greg hands me my copy before we leave.
"Thank you," I say simply.
"It's what you're paying me for," he reminds me as we walk out of the restaurant...and nearly bump straight into Cesare, whose hand was resting on another girl's back.
No. No. No.
I rub my eyes, but the vision in front of me doesn't go away, and Cesare's lip even curls as if he finds my shock pathetic.
"H-How—-" How long has he been out? How did he get out? How?!
"I've been out for almost a month."
His voice is cold and dismissive, and every word feels like a knife to my heart. The girl next to him looks like she's dying to speak, but one look from Cesare has her biting her lip, and when our gazes meet, the look in her eyes has my favorite hobby calling.
Cesare's new girl feels BAD...for me.
My fingers dig desperately into my palms, but as soon as Cesare and his date walk past us, and the familiar scent of his aftershave hits me—-
No. No. No.
I throw up on Rufino's footsteps—-
And I know Cesare's heard me.
But he just doesn't give a fuck.
Is it today, God?
Is it today...that everything finally makes painful sense?
GREG DRIVES ME BACK to my new place, and the whole ride is spent in silence. I wish I could just say 'thank you', but I'm still terrified that the moment I open my mouth, the tears I've been desperately holding in check will never stop falling.
He pulls up by the sidewalk across my apartment building, and I get out of his car on my own. It just feels weird if I were to wait for him to open my door; that would make this seem like a date, which it's not.
"Sure you'll be okay?"
Relief breaks over me when I hear the concern threading through his voice. It's more than enough that he doesn't pity me the way that girl did.
"I'm fine."
"Want me to walk you up to the door?"
His phone rings before I can say no, and I know it's an important call when I see frustration flash in his eyes.
'Good night,' I mouth at him.
He makes a face as I wave at him, but he also mouths back 'good night' in the end.
I feel like it's only polite for me to remain in the lobby while he walks back to his car, and so I stay there...watching him.
And that's when I remember that night.
It was the night before Dad died, a night where he had come home unusually late—-a night that I had dreamt of a few weeks ago.
I remember sitting up and looking at my phone. Remember asking him—-
'Where have you been?'
I remember him sitting next to me on the couch.
'Sorry, Penny. I should've called. You didn't have to wait up for me.'
'You still haven't told me where you've been...'
'Grief support.'
'For real? You finally attended one?'
'Yeah. I think I even made a new friend. He lost someone because of his gambling addiction. Since then, he's never stepped inside another casino, and everywhere he goes, he's got this die in his pocket, to remind him of what he's lost.'
Chapter Fourteen
Cesare
GAZELLE COULD NO LONGER hold her silence. "Are we really not going to talk about it?" She had been waiting for her brother to talk to her about what just happened, but all he had asked her in the past hour was if she wanted red wine or white.
"There's nothing to talk about."
"I know that's her, Ces." Gazelle couldn't keep her voice from shaking as she remembered the stricken look on the other girl's face. "And I can't believe you allowed her to think I was your date."
"It doesn't matter what she thinks—-"
"You hurt her!"
"She'll get over it—-"
"No, Cesare. She won't. You broke her heart—-"
The glass stem in her brother's hand snapped into pieces, and a gasp escaped her when she saw him start to bleed.
"Signore!"
Nearby servers were in a panic, but Cesare didn't pay them any heed as he used a table napkin to apply pressure to the large gash in his palm.
"Is there anything we can do to—-"
"Apologies for the disturbance." The dismissive note in Cesare's voice wasn't lost on the staff, and they were quick to walk away without another word. If Cesare Marchetti did not want them to fuss over him, then they were no idiots to insist on doing otherwise.
Gazelle hadn't known what to believe when their grandmother told her over the phone that Cesare was not his usual self. Cesare had always been the most ruthless among her brothers, and she had grown up somewhat thinking of him as their family's most invincible pillar of strength that no one and nothing could ever topple.