Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
The problem isn’t my wife.
It’s me.
I sit back as an old, familiar pain spreads through my chest. The hurt isn’t for me. It’s for Anya. I fear she was right. I told her she mistook guilt for love, but this changes everything. This gives a different perspective on things. She does love me, more than anyone has ever loved me, and the reason I denied it so hard up to now when it’s all I thought I ever wanted is because I can’t reciprocate.
It’s not her fault that I can never trust or love a woman again. My heart is like a plant that died too long ago. No amount of watering can resuscitate the dead roots. Besides, it’ll be dangerous if I give people the impression that I love her.
It’s not fair. It’s less than she deserves. Yet I can’t let her go, and now that she’s made her choice, she’s mine forever, mine to cherish and care for, mine to protect, and mine to soothe for all the hurt I’m yet to cause her.
Chapter
Twenty-Four
Anya
* * *
As a courtesy, I send an email to Benson Bennett to inform him that I’ll be grounded in the near future for a good few weeks. A reply comes immediately with a date, saying there’s no time like the present. Our game is set for Friday.
The rules are simple. Each of us can have one witness present. No weapons. The loser hands over the prize at once. It will happen at his club on his turf.
During the next few days, Livy teaches me how to play. I watch a few online tutorials. It’s easy enough. I actually enjoy the game, but I’m out of my depth. Benson has been frequenting the illegal gambling rooms for years. He’s a big Blackjack player and a lucky one at that. If I’m to save After Dark and Saverio’s organization, I better have my ducks in a row.
After sharing my plan with Livy, we decide it’s best not to tell the men anything. Dante will go ballistic. He’ll definitely inform Saverio of my intention, and Saverio will never allow me to play with a man like Benson, let alone gamble with After Dark. Sadly, I don’t have a choice. It’s either this gamble or getting myself maimed and killed when the payback day arrives.
On Friday, we leave Claire with Dante. Our excuse is that we’re getting bikini waxes at the spa. I did my homework and learned that Benson not only owns the club and the hotel in which it’s situated but also the spa on the first level.
As I predicted, Dante is too red in the face when I mention Brazilians to pose questions. Livy and I leave in my car, our bags already in the trunk. Two guards follow, but they park in the street to keep an eye on the building as men aren’t allowed in the spa.
In the underground parking, we change in the car. I put on a modest black dress with the diamonds Saverio gave me, opting for a smart, classical look. Livy wears a Coco Chanel style outfit with black stockings and spiky heels. Her lucky pearls are wound around her neck. Her long hair is twisted in shiny gray locks with white streaks that catch the light.
We take the elevator to the sixth floor lobby, my heart pounding in my chest while I plaster a smile on my face. We’re right on time, not a minute late or early. The man himself, Benson Bennett, waits for us when the elevator doors open.
My first impression of Benson is frightful awe. He’s big, broad, and roughish, dressed in a pinstriped suit and a hundred thousand-dollar watch. His dark hair that’s graying at the temples is brushed back. A stylish beard is shaved closed to his skin, the lines so symmetrical they must’ve been styled by a very talented barber. He smells as expensive as he looks. His smile is easy and friendly, and his handshake is firm but not crushing. He exudes an air of respectful familiarity without coming across as invasive. It makes me feel as if we’re old friends.
I’m not fooled by his amiable, civilized front though. Since crossing Saverio’s path, I’ve met enough dangerous men to know the one who stands in front of me won’t think twice about breaking my neck. If provoked, I may see a very different side of him.
“Mrs. De Luca,” he exclaims, holding my hand between both of his for a short second before letting me go. “Welcome to my abode.” He winks. “Yes, I spend more time here than at home. I may as well sleep here.” He waves an arm, motioning at the empty space. “I cleared the club out for the afternoon so that we can spend a convivial moment without being disturbed.”