Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
The idea from earlier expanded with the added information. It shifted and grew like a snowball down a hill, picking up pace, racing to an answer. It was a risk with zero facts behind it, but most elites distributed shares to members of their family. Surely, Verana had some too.
Before I could think it through and fully weigh the pros and cons, my lips parted, and blurted it out.
“Marry me.”
Her head jerked back. “What?”
“Marry me. If you marry me, you can’t marry Camden.” I practically sneered his name. She seemed to just be discovering what an asshole he was, but I’d always known.
“I—I can’t. My father—”
“Can’t hurt you under my care,” I interrupted, daring to reach out and run my finger along her reddened cheek. Electricity shot down my arm, and I struggled to remain still.
“Nico,” she breathed the nickname only my parents called me, and pleasure mixed with the jolt, creating a dangerous concoction I shoved aside. Now wasn’t the time. I dropped my hand and shoved both hands into my pockets to keep from repeating the process.
“Listen, Verana. Leave the box. Go home and think on it. Take tomorrow off. Then come to my place tomorrow evening for dinner, and we can discuss it more. It’s been a long day, and this isn’t a discussion to have after a bottle of champagne.”
“Two,” she muttered.
My brows shot high. Two bottles in her tiny body? Jesus…would she remember this tomorrow? Ignoring that for now, I pressed on.
“Come on. I know it sounds crazy, but just…think on it and promise we can talk.” I struggled to keep my tone neutral and not plead for her to accept the crazy idea.
God, it was so crazy. But it was crazy with a chance of victory—to replenish the opportunity I just lost. And I hadn’t gotten as far as I had without seizing every opportunity I had.
“Ummm…” She shook her head, pinching her eyes shut, and I took my chance to push the box to the corner. Not wanting to startle her, I gently rested my hand on her hip and guided her away from the cubby.
She let me lead her to the elevator and stood in silence, waiting for it to come. I glanced her way, watching her study the floor like it had the answer to the question I asked. Her lips pursed, and her brows pinched. I studied her like she did the lines in the hardwood, and I wished I knew what went on in that head of hers.
The doors slid open, and she stepped in. Before they could close, she finally spoke, “But you hate me.”
Maybe it was the hope she wouldn’t remember from all the alcohol or the raw honesty that had spilled around us tonight, but my tongue loosened, and my admission slipped free. “I don’t hate you. Far from it. I might even admire you a little.”
In the final moment, before the doors slid closed, her lips tipped in a shy smile.
With her gone, the reality of what I’d just offered roared around me.
My blood pumped harder, adrenaline flooding my veins. I’d asked Verana Mariano to marry me. She hadn’t said no. The daughter of my enemy had been under my roof this whole time, like a gift I’d yet to find.
Of all the emotions and doubt swirling around me, excitement hit me the hardest.
I just didn’t know if it was because I had an ace up my sleeve to take down my opponent or if it was because my ace was her.
Fourteen
Vera
Unknown: I’ll have a driver pick you up at 6:30.
Me: Who is this?
Unknown: Nicholas Rush
Me: How’d you get my number? Or my address?
Nicholas Rush: It’s in your file.
Nicholas Rush: Or did you lie about that too?
Me: No.
Nicholas Rush: Good. See you then.
He didn’t ask if I still wanted to come or if I had any plans. He commanded.
Surprisingly, after the last twenty-four hours, I didn’t mind.
I’d waffled all day. I’d stumbled home last night and passed out, his offer barely touching the alcohol. However, when I awoke this morning, it slammed back to me like another painful slap to the face.
Along with shame, embarrassment, anger, and a whole hurricane of emotions.
I’d considered calling the office and telling him that there was no way I’d even consider his offer, but I always stopped, knowing it was a lie.
How Camden treated me, left its mark. While I may have drank until my face tingled, I’d checked my locks twice and slid a chair in front of my bedroom door just in case. And my father. I didn’t even know where to begin. Something lingered behind it all that I couldn’t see but knew was there—like an ominous shadow. Whatever it was, I didn’t care to find out. I wanted no part of it. I’d gone to him for help, and he’d hurt me. My own father. My Papa.