Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 88279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 441(@200wpm)___ 353(@250wpm)___ 294(@300wpm)
Isabelle has gone very, very still, but I can’t spare a thought for her because I’m too busy staring at Beast. Where the fuck does he get off putting that out there as if he’s the only one who gets a choice in this situation? He decided he doesn’t want her to choose so that’s that. “You are such a selfish asshole.”
Beast doesn’t blink. “Guilty.”
“You don’t just get to decide for all three of us that this is what’s happening. This wasn’t part of the bargain.”
He shrugs. “Tell me you don’t want me, that the idea of the three of us trying to figure it out doesn’t tempt you a little.”
“I don’t want you. The three of us doesn’t tempt me even a little.”
The bastard smirks. “Yeah, now try it again with some honesty.”
I open my mouth to repeat my words, but they don’t come. But, fuck him, he’s right. I do want him. The last year has made it clear that my hate for Beast was all wrapped up in situational stuff. In our competition for Isabelle’s love, for Orsino’s favor. Without those things in play, I don’t actually mind the guy. More, I respect the hell out of his ability to get the job done, out of his crafty as fuck mind, out of the way he fills out a pair of jeans.
But even that’s not completely honest. If I’m being honest, I can admit that half my hate for him was wrapped up in thwarted lust, in a strange sort of jealousy that I can’t untangle. I couldn’t have him, couldn’t face the fact that I wanted him, so it was easier to loathe him.
So, yeah, I want him. Maybe I’ve always wanted him,
It doesn’t make this the right call.
As for the three of us together…
My chest aches just thinking about it. Walking away from Isabelle almost killed me. There were whole weeks I barely remember because I was basically the walking dead after that relationship ended. It took ending up in the Underworld one night and Tink ripping me a new one mid-scene for me to snap out of it.
It took another six months and change to crawl out of that goddamn hole.
If that happened after having and losing her, how much worse will it be when this experiment of Beast’s invariably fails? I’ll fall for him. If I’m honest with myself, I’m already halfway there. Maybe more than halfway. I’ll go tumbling head over heels for this goddamn heaven he’s offering, and then when he gets bored or Isabelle gets spooked, they’ll walk. And I’ll be left worse off than before.
My voice is rough when I finally find the words. “It’ll never work.”
It’s Isabelle who turns to look up at me, all wide brown eyes filled with hope. “But what if it does?”
Chapter 24
Isabelle
This has to be another trap, another mind-fuck, but I don’t care. I’m terrified by how much I want what Beast offers. The three of us. Something I never dared hope for, something that feels so right, I could weep.
But Gaeton doesn’t look convinced. Someone else might look at his expression and think he’s furious with Beast for even speaking the words, but I know him better than that. He’s just as terrified as I am.
I carefully move to my knees, putting me at eye level with him. I wish with all my heart that there was something I could do to banish the uncertainty from him, but it’s circling my chest, too. Making this decision, going forward with this I’ll lose the one thing I once valued above all else. I can’t be free while I’m owned by these two men. They’re too dominant, too protective, too determined to put their stamp on my very soul and ruin me for anyone else. If I say yes to this, I’m giving up the hope of one day leaving Carver City.
I close my eyes. It was a false dream, anyways. I have to admit that to myself, even if I haven’t been able to admit it to anyone else. I am Orsino Belmonte’s daughter. I was never leaving this city, was never having a life outside the responsibilities of the territory. I was never going to be normal.
When I open my eyes again, it’s to find Gaeton looking like he’s torn between throwing himself at us and leaving the room as quickly as possible. I can’t dredge up a smile to comfort him, not when I’m so unsure myself. Not when there’s still so much burned and salted ground between us. “It’s okay if you can’t forgive me, Gaeton. It’s …” It’s so hard to get this out. Setting him free is the last thing I want, which makes me a bigger hypocrite than I can ever say. I swallow hard. “I know what I did was unforgivable.”