Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Carmine swore under his breath. “Can you just get off your high horse and call her Leila?”
“That’s not her name.”
“But it’s what she wants to be called. Stefano’s right; you’re not giving in an inch. What harm would it do to indulge the girl a bit? I can guarantee you, she’s not going to let it go to her head.” Both of us stared at Carmine as he kept going. “Surely even you can see that she’s not the spoiled princess you thought she was.”
“Are you done?” Massimo asked.
“For now.”
“What if I did give her a chance to make up for what she’s been missing?”
“What about it?” Carmine’s voice was cautious.
“Would you two be on board?”
“Of course,” Carmine answered. Then they both looked at me.
“Depends on what you mean,” I said evenly.
Massimo glanced around, as if making sure we were alone, and then told us in no uncertain terms what he meant.
When he was done, my mouth hung open, and Carmine looked stunned. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he said.
Massimo looked us both over. “Are you in?”
That was a really good question.
14
LEILA
For most of the day, I wandered the house in a daze. I still couldn’t quite get a handle on all that had happened yesterday. It was like years went by before something truly out of the ordinary happened to me, and then a bunch of things all happened at once.
I’d wandered the streets of Chicago alone. True, I’d been too worried to enjoy it, but I’d done it. I’d been targeted by a predator. I’d hurt Carmine. I’d been kissed by my future husband. And then he’d given me a pleasure I’d never even suspected existed.
No wonder my mind was all over the place.
Everyone else seemed on edge, too. Jana was quiet when serving breakfast. Stefano seemed preoccupied and hadn’t shown up for lunch. The whole atmosphere of the house felt like the calm before the storm.
But if yesterday was considered calm, I’d hate to know what the storm was.
I felt too restless to keep still, so I spent some time in the backyard, enjoying the fresh air. If I had known anything about gardening, it would’ve been a nice spot. Maybe, after things got back to normal, I could ask Stefano to look up some information about gardening in Illinois.
But as it was, I didn’t even go down to his office in the afternoon to play his video game. Instead, I made my way to the hideaway where I had all my blankets and things. For a while, as I lay on the covers, my mind raced. But eventually, my thoughts grew fuzzy, and reality drifted away.
I awoke with a start sometime later, blinking in the dim light. My pulse spiked as I saw some light from around the top of the little door. I’d closed it when I came in.
I sat up, fumbling for the flashlight, but before I could find it, it switched on, seemingly of its own accord. My breath caught in my throat as I realized who was holding it. “H-Hi.” My voice was unsteady.
“Hi.”
Massimo looked too big to be in here. As it was, it felt like he took up half the space, even though he was sitting down with his legs crossed. Criss-cross-applesauce, as we used to call it. There really wasn’t enough room for him to sit any other way.
“How’d you find me?”
“Stefano said you might be up here.” He aimed the flashlight around the little space. “I haven’t been in here in at least twenty years. Looks smaller.”
“It feels smaller, with two of us in here. Did the three of you really used to fit in here? I saw your initials.”
He reached over and ran a finger over the old carvings. “More or less. Carmine was always a big kid.”
“I figured.”
Massimo watched me, and I ran a hand over my hair, smoothing it down.
“It looks fine.”
It wasn’t exactly high praise, but given that I couldn’t recall a single other compliment he’d given me, I’d take it.
The silence between us grew, and I sighed. “What are we doing?”
“Sitting. Uncomfortably. In the dark.”
I couldn’t argue with that, but it wasn’t what I meant. “We’re getting married—and you don’t even like me.”
His expression, what I could see of it, didn’t change. “I never said that.”
“You never said anything to dispute it, either.” I leaned back against the bare wall, trying to organize my thoughts. “What if we were in jail together?
He frowned, but then the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Even jail cells are bigger than this.”
I shook my head. “We’re living next to each other. In adjoining rooms, and ... except for last night, we don’t get along. At all.” And did last night even count as getting along? After all, he’d spanked me. It had hurt like hell, too. My bottom still felt sore. But I also still remember the other sensations, too. “If we were in prison together, we’d both be trapped there, unable to leave. But wouldn’t it be marginally better if we were friendly to each other? Or at least not at each other’s throats?”