Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Giorgio straightens, pulling my attention back to him.
“When someone’s been your lapdog for so long, you tend to think you’ll always have them at your feet with a flick of your fingers.” He adds with a smile, “It must hurt her female pride to discover the husband she rejected moved on. Rachele is very sure of herself. She didn’t believe Sav would ever get over her. To be fair to my lovely sister, Sav is the first man whose heart she broke to defy the norm.”
I rub my arms as a chill works its way through my body. “Why are you telling me this?”
He shrugs. “To put things in perspective.”
I glance around to check that no one is eavesdropping and lower my voice before saying with animosity, “Only, you know Sav and my relationship isn’t real.”
“Rachele doesn’t. She must hate the one woman who finally outshines her. No one here is any the wiser either. In their eyes, you’re the most beautiful and most coveted girl now, the new queen of the prom, and that gives you power.” He takes a step in my direction. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”
I stand my ground, not backing away. “What are you getting at?”
He smirks. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”
Leaving me with that, he saunters away. I follow him with my gaze as he walks up to a couple and shakes the man’s hand.
Saverio exits the house and makes his way over to me. He’s donned a mask, his expression blank. It’s impossible to read him.
Rachele steps out a moment later, straightening her dress and shaking out her long, shiny hair before tilting up her chin and walking in the opposite direction.
Saverio stops in front of me.
I’m too upset with him and about what Giorgio said to speak to him right now.
Saverio tips my face up with a finger, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Say it.”
“Say what?”
“What’s going on in your head.”
I pull away. “Nothing.”
He narrows his eyes. “Don’t lie to me, tesoro.”
“Take a hint from Dante’s advice.” I spin on my heel, not knowing where I’m heading and not caring. “This isn’t the time or the place.”
He fastens his fingers around my wrist and pulls me back to him. “Don’t walk away from me, Anya. We’re not done.”
“What are you going to do? Drag me into the house like you just did with your ex-wife?”
“No,” he says, his expression serious. “I’ll carry you upstairs to save you from climbing the thirty polished and potentially slippery marble steps—which should be illegal for pregnant women—in those very sexy but unpractical heels.”
“You’re out of your mind.”
“I don’t give a damn if people stare, but you may, so I’ll give you a choice—the study on the first floor where anyone can walk in or a bedroom on the second floor with a door that can lock. If you choose the first floor, you can walk. If it’s upstairs, I’ll carry you.”
“Why?” I ask with a bite in my tone. “Because you want to fuck me to prove your dominance? Do you want to make sure you can control me?”
“The idea was to talk, but I’m always up for a fuck if it’s with you.”
I want to smack him. “You’re a bastard, Saverio. The worst is that you don’t even have a clue.”
His jaw bunches. “That’s it.”
He wraps one arm around my shoulders and the other underneath my knees, lifting me to his chest. I utter a squeal and bite back the curse on the tip of my tongue.
“Put me down,” I say through clenched teeth as he makes for the house.
Like he promised, people gawk as he carries me inside, but he’s not to be deterred. I have no choice but to wrap my arms around his neck, holding on while clutching my bag in one hand.
He passes caterers and waiters who strain their necks to look after us, climbs the stairs, and walks down the hallway like a man who knows his way around the house. At the first room where the door stands open, he enters and kicks it shut behind him.
“Put me down,” I say again, wiggling in his arms.
He only obliges after locking the door with one hand.
My gaze falls on the wedding dress that hangs against a closet, layers of tulle tumbling to the floor. The bedroom is an explosion of disorder with clothes littering the unmade bed. Cosmetics are strewn over the dressing table. A diamond tiara hangs over the frame of the mirror.
“We shouldn’t be here,” I say.
“I don’t give a damn.” Saverio advances on me, confining me between the bed and the dressing table. “Talk to me, Anya.”
My patience snaps. “You could’ve told me.”
“Told you what?”
“That you were married,” I exclaim.
“What difference would it have made?”
“All the difference.” I throw my hands in the air. “Can’t you understand that? At least I would’ve been prepared.”