Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
“Can I ask you a question?” Dante asked.
“You can ask. I may not grant you a response.”
“Why didn’t you take care of Phillip before now? If he was causing you a number of problems.”
Phillips obsession with blackmail and manipulation had started to cause the family many problems. The first being Constance’s husband. His family were not happy with the information that it was enemy fire, and with no retaliation, it had caused many waves, with the whispers of war coming far and wide.
Men and women that had been killed because of Phillip, cleaning up the messes. Phillip had long stopped being an ally, and instead became a problem that needed to be fixed.
Dante understood this.
“When you have a child of your own one day, you will understand the trouble that comes from having to make tough decisions. It is not always easy to do what needs to be done.”
A child.
He couldn’t help but think about his wife back home.
In the past week, he had left her alone to deal with this. After organizing a meeting with Pesci, it hadn’t been a quick meeting either. The man was constantly busy with family affairs and the like.
After Dante had brought him the evidence he needed, Pesci had been furious. To find out his own son had blackmailed and used his daughter like a whore. Pesci had wanted to kill him, but Dante was given that privilege.
Pesci set about dealing with Phillip’s family, and now Dante needed to go home to deal with his wife.
****
Aria was used to not seeing Dante for weeks at a time. At least in the past she had been used to it. She hadn’t seen him the last week, and there hadn’t been any mention of a divorce, or any sign of him.
Bent over the bathroom toilet, she threw up for the fourth time that week. Closing the lid, she flushed the toilet and then collapsed to the floor. Perspiration dotted her brow, but she knew why this was happening.
Morning sickness.
She woke up with it, and after a horrible hour or two, she’d settle her stomach with some toast, and the rest of the day was fine. More than fine. She was pregnant. She hadn’t taken a test, at least not yet.
This couldn’t have come at a worse time. Dante was going to be free and now she had their child on the way. Why did life have to be so cruel?
She laid on the floor, like she had the past couple of mornings, and waited for the sickness to abate. It always took time and until it did pass, she could do no more than sit on the floor and wait it out. The minutes ticked by, and finally the sickness left her, and she was able to get to her feet.
She felt flushed, and moved toward the sink, splashing some cold water onto her face, in an attempt to clear the fog from her mind. After waking herself up, she grabbed her toothbrush and started to clean her teeth.
Once that was done, she ran a brush through her hair and felt a little human. The only thing that was going to settle her stomach was toast. She could no longer drink her regular morning cup of coffee.
She stepped into the dining room, only to come to a stop when she caught sight of Dante, paper in hand, sitting at the breakfast table.
She was reminded of all those weeks ago when he’d still been at home, reading his paper, after they had performed their duties.
Was this where he would give her the divorce?
Was this where her heart would finally be broken?
The temptation to turn and flee was so strong, but instead she forced herself to move one foot in front of the other, until she was able to sit down at the table. She reached for the toast, taking a bite out of it, hoping it would settle her stomach and do its wonders fast.
“Good morning,” Dante said.
“Morning.” She took another bite of her toast.
She waited for him to speak, to present her with the divorce papers, to ruin her whole world by finally ending their marriage.
You can take it. Dante was never going to be yours. He is not yours.
Dante cleared his throat, folded up his paper, and turned toward her. “I have something to tell you.”
Aria waited, holding onto her toast as if it was some kind of lifeline. She waited.
“Your father is dead,” Dante said. “It would appear I was not the only person caught in Phillip’s web. He made a lot of enemies, and he used your aunt to his advantage. Also, I won’t be divorcing you.”
Aria opened her mouth and closed it, a little taken aback by what she had heard. “What?”
“You heard me. Which part do you need me to be clear about?” he asked.