Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136915 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 685(@200wpm)___ 548(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
“You’re not working a nine to five job. Your duty is never over. We’re at war. You still remember, do you?”
I smirked. “Trust me, Dad, that’s something I’ll never forget. That’s something you forced upon me as well. I was against the attack!”
Dad gripped my shirt. “You know fucking well why I did it. You left me no choice! It was the only way to make sure you wouldn’t keep pining for that girl.”
I nodded and took a step back, so Dad had to drop his hand. “Good job.”
Dad searched my eyes and his face became a mask of wariness. “Amo. Do you really want to die?”
“Would you die for Mom?”
Dad closed his eyes. “What are you doing?”
“What I should have done right away.”
I didn’t give Dad a chance to say more. I mounted the bike and drove away. Tonight was about Maximus, nothing else. But tomorrow, I’d take my life into my own hands. And if anyone wanted to stop me, they’d find out what those hands were capable of.
Fuck. What was I going to do?
I felt torn, between my loyalty for my family and my feelings for Amo. Eventually it would tear me apart. I couldn’t carry the weight of my betrayal alone anymore. I needed to confide in someone. I needed another view, some insights that might help me decide how to go on. How to keep living this divided life.
When I returned home from my sanctuary on Sunday, I found Mom doing aerial yoga in the yoga room she’d set up in our wing of the mansion. She was hanging head down in the colorful cloths that were attached to the ceiling.
I sometimes practiced yoga with Mom, but I did it less for the mental aspects and more for the stretching that had a positive effect on my ballet skills.
Mom smiled at me, despite her red head and slowly brought herself into an upright position. “Do you want to join me?”
“I need to talk.”
Immediately, Mom’s expression clouded with worry and she lowered herself to the floor. She grabbed a towel from her matt and wiped her face, then she motioned at the low sofa in the corner. We sank down and Mom touched my shoulder. “You can tell me anything, Greta. Absolutely anything. I can keep a secret.”
“Even from Dad?”
Asking the question made me feel guilty but Mom needed to know the severity of the situation and not stumble into it blindly.
“For you I’d keep a thousand secrets even from your father.” She touched my cheek, her eyes soft. “But your father loves you and our family more than anything else. He would forgive anything.”
“Not this. Too much is at stake.”
Mom swallowed, her pale brows drawing together. “Okay. Now you got me really worried.”
“I don’t even know where to begin.”
“The start is always a good point.”
That was something Nino might say. I loved how we all rubbed off on each other. I loved so much about this family, which was why this deceit felt like a boulder on my heart. I decided not to beat around the bush. There was no easy way to say what needed to be said. “I have an affair with Amo.”
Mom sank back against the cushions, her mouth falling open. She looked away and let out a deep breath. “Oh wow. I didn’t expect that.” I could see how hard she fought for composure. She swallowed hard before she turned back to me and regarded me. Her eyes scanned every inch of my face. Maybe she was looking for the daughter she thought she knew. She let out a stunned laugh. “You really went in for the kill.”
I frowned, not sure what she meant by that. I’d never meant for this war to happen, never meant for people to die.
“You didn’t sugarcoat things,” she said as if she could see my confusion. She took another deep breath. She stood and blew out a long breath.
“Mom?”
“Just give me a moment, Greta. This is a bit more than I expected.”
“I told you it was something Dad would never forgive.”
Mom gave a one shoulder shrug. “He’d forgive you, of course. But his actions regarding the Vitiellos might not be considered forgiving.”
“He’ll kill Amo.”
“He wanted to kill him for various reasons before this. I fear death won’t be enough in your father’s eyes in this case.”
I closed my eyes and buried my face in my hands. Despair clawed at my chest.
The sofa dipped and Mom wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “It’s going to be okay.”
“How?”
“I don’t know yet. But it’s going to be okay.” Mom stroked my head as if I still were a small child. “How long has this been going on?”
“Five months.”
“I noticed that you changed but I didn’t want to pressure you into talking to me. I knew you’d come when you felt ready.”