Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
For now, I’ll hold this close and keep her safe.
Chapter 25
Camille
Work the day after dinner is surprisingly calm. There are still a dozen made men sitting around and eating through Demetrios’s stock of lamb. I notice a few of them staring at me, and when I look back, they don’t turn away like they used to. There’s an intensity to the way the guys are looking at me. I assume it’s because I’m the lord’s fiancée, but I get a weird vibe and I’m not sure what to do with it, so I just ignore them.
But otherwise it’s quiet, no angry Greek lords or ladies bothering me while I’m trying to do my job.
Except Phel, of course. “My dad was basically glowing after Evander spoke to him yesterday,” she says with a massive grin. “You should’ve seen him at home. He was like a schoolgirl with a crush.”
“I can get him Evander’s autograph if he’d like.”
“Girl, don’t joke, he’d freak out if you did that.”
I laugh despite myself. Demetrios is a good man and he’s been more than kind to me, so I don’t want to get involved in his daughter’s good-natured teasing, but it does feel good to have a friend.
And after meeting Evander’s family, I really feel like I need a friend right now.
I keep hearing the scorn in Anissa’s voice, that cold and frigid anger, like I was some kind if blood-sucking insect sitting at their table trying to feast on their bodies. Evander warned me that it might be bad, but that was infinitely worse than I ever imagined, and I could barely sleep that night.
It didn’t help that Evander didn’t come to bed at all. He disappeared soon afterward, claiming he had work to do, and I couldn’t do anything but watch him leave and never come back.
It’s strange, when all this started, all I wanted was to be left alone. I wanted my own room in a quiet corner of the house so I could hide out and wait for the danger to pass.
Now when I crawl under the sheets in Evander’s bed, I can’t stop thinking about him, about his hands on my body and his mouth against mine, his low chuckle and his whisper in my ear. I want his broad hands on my skin as he holds me until I fall asleep, and I want to wake up to his soft breathing as the morning sun streams in through the windows.
Instead, the bed is cold and empty, and there’s only me.
For a man that insists on sleeping with me as a husband and wife should, he’s notably absent every night.
He said it was so I could get acclimated to living with him at first, but now I wonder if it’s more about him getting used to me.
“Okay, girl, I’ve been ignoring it all day, but I don’t think I can keep quiet any longer.” About three hours into my shift, Phel leans up against the counter and stares at me. “Seriously, when are we going to talk about the freaking huge, giant, obscenely expensive diamond elephant in the room.”
I grimace and look down at the ring on my finger. “Shit, I forgot I was wearing it.”
Which makes Phel groan and cover her face. “How the hell could you forget you’re wearing that thing? Camille, it’s beautiful, and it has got to be worth tens of thousands of dollars.”
“Probably,” I admit and hold it out. “He gave it to me last night and I just—”
“You haven’t taken it off. Yeah, I wouldn’t either, I’d be afraid of losing the damn thing.”
“Oh my god, don’t say that. I hadn’t thought about that yet—”
“It’ll be fine. Come here, let me see.”
I hold my hand out and she studies it, slowly shaking her head. “I know, it’s crazy.”
“You’re really marrying him?”
I pull my hand away and slowly turn the ring around in circles, chewing my lip. “I am, yes.”
“I knew you two were doing some weird stuff, but—”
“We’re not doing weird stuff!”
“—but I didn’t know it was serious.” Her eyes narrow at me. “Who the hell are you, Camille?”
I laugh at the question. Who the hell am I? I’m some random girl from South Philly, a girl with nothing to her name, nobody to call a friend, and no home to go back to. I’m a girl that’s caught up in something bigger than her, trapped between violent men, afraid she’ll never be free again.
“I’m Camille,” I say. “I like vintage sneakers. I think The Office is the best show ever made. I like reading, dancing, and cookbooks, but I hate cooking.”
Phel laughs softly. “The Office is overrated.”
“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that.”
“Evander Kazan, huh. I guess this makes you, what, Camille Kazan?”
I blink rapidly and shudder. “I haven’t thought about that, but I guess so. Well—when we make it official.”