Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 296(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
I look over my shoulder at him, confused, my hand poised above the silverware drawer. “Stop… what?”
He doesn’t meet my eyes as he takes two bottles of water out of the fridge.
“Your online stuff. It's too risky, and now’s not a time when you can take risks.”
I knew this conversation was going there eventually but hearing him say it makes a ball form in the pit of my stomach.
I gather my thoughts.
All he’ll have to do is tell Sergio and Eden, and I’ll have pressure from all of them to stop.
I think about telling him why I need this, why it’s become a part of who I am. But when I open my mouth to speak, all that comes out is, “No. I can’t.”
“Starla. Your apartment was ransacked. They took your pets."
A pang hits my heart. "They probably did that because you're home. They probably want you to come out of hiding, so they have another reason to hurt you." I take a swipe at the lone tear that rolls down my cheek; now is not the time for tears.
"It's my livelihood," I continue, steel in my voice. "And you can't make me take that down. I will not accept your money, or Sergio’s, or Eden’s. This is my money, Timeo. And this is how I make it. I've been as anonymous as possible, and just because you guys have some pretty bad enemies, doesn't mean I do."
I'm shaking as I turn away from him. I start hand washing the dirty dishes, forgetting there’s a dishwasher.
“Come here and eat your food,” he finally says, gesturing at my untouched plate.
But I’m not done. “This is what I do. This is who I am." My voice wobbles. "This is the only thing I’m good at.”
Timeo tilts his chair back and folds his arms across his chest, giving me that look that only Timeo could ever give me.
Other people might believe lies, but he definitely never did.
"The only thing you're good at?" He thinks about that, his head cocked to the side. "Pretending to be someone you're not? Hiding anonymously behind a platform? So all those people who follow you don't get to see your face, to talk to you, get to know who you are?" Raising a brow, he still stares at me, his arms crossed on his chest. "That's not who you are. And I'm not saying you can't make a damn good income being an influencer, or whatever the fuck. But there are lots of things you could do Starla, that show who you really are.” He gestures again at the plate. “Now get over here and eat your food.”
I set my jaw and stare at him. “I’m not hungry.”
He considers me with narrowed eyes. “Not what you said a few minutes ago.”
I’m starving, but I don’t want him to think he can push me around and tell me what to do. I’ve played that game, and it isn’t one I have any interest in playing again.
"Do you have any idea how much money I have saved?"
I pull up my phone to show him but find the cell service is out again. He probably wouldn’t be too impressed anyway, since the Montavios are all billionaires.
"I came from nothing, Timeo. I have earned every penny I have. I am not going to let anyone take anything else from me again.”
When he doesn’t respond but only silently points to the plate, I finally cave. We eat in silence for long minutes. I’m starving but hardly taste it.
Finally, Timeo pushes back from his plate. I lay my fork down, full, and so tired.
Wordlessly, he gestures to me.
I am helpless to fight anything that brings me closer to him.
I go to him.
With ease, he slides me onto his lap and turns me to face him.
"Starla. I’m not trying to take anything from you. What you’ve been through makes you who you are. But I’ve seen the people I love hurt badly by people who want nothing more than their own gain, and I won’t let that happen to you.”
The people that I love.
“I get that,” I say in a little voice. “Um, for now, it’s a moot point because we have no service.”
“Deal. But we will discuss this again.”
I nod and stroke my hand along his jaw. I love the prickly feel of the stubble. He smiles at me, his gaze softening.
“Do you remember that time you were at that party in Harvard Square…”
I groan out loud. "Nope, uh uh, that never happened. We don't need to discuss such things."
He gives me that lopsided grin that makes my heart tumble in my chest. "Oh, it fucking happened.”
“Do you remember the time you were at Sergio's bachelor party and got shitfaced and lost? Remember how I saved your ass?"
He groans and covers his face with his hands. "Jesus, I forgot about that."