Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
“She is too. She’s still mourning her father, and I don’t think she’ll get past that anytime soon.”
“You can still try.” He lets me go. “You know how I was with Casey.”
“Yep. Unhinged.”
“I was obsessed.” He gives me a hard stare. “I couldn’t get her out of my head. It was like a disease, but I kept telling myself that I was doing her a favor by keeping my distance, as if I would hurt her simply by being a part of her life. And you know what happened in the end?”
“You hurt her simply by being a part of her life?”
He punches my arm. “Basically, but don’t ruin my punchline. The point I’m making is we don’t always know what’s the best thing, and all we can do is try. You like this girl, right?”
“I never said that.”
“Come on. You complained about her constantly right up until the wedding, but since then you’ve barely said a word.”
“I’ll admit to some fondness.”
“Good. Nurture that feeling. She’s your wife now.”
“It’d be nice if one Costa brother could have a normal relationship.”
His eyebrows raise. “Do you know of another Costa brother? Otherwise, I think that ship has sailed.”
“Fair point. Alright, since you’ve all made it clear that I need to try harder, I will put in an effort.”
Even if a part of me still doesn’t want to. The guilt-ridden, grieving part.
“Good. Okay. This has been really fun and you know how much I love discussing your personal relationships, but I have work to do.”
“If you don’t want to hear about Fallon, you could always let us move back to London.”
“Nice try.” He walks off, leaving me alone in the lobby, thinking about my wife.
The way she looked at me in our bedroom as I told her the story of Jackson.
I left out the most important part, the piece of the story that has me waking up at night caked in sweat: those killers came for me. I should’ve been the one dead, and instead, Jackson died protecting me. He saved my life but I couldn’t save his.
And now being with her feels like a betrayal of that sacrifice.
Which is why that little fondness I admitted to is like a cancer eating me up from the inside.
I like the girl. I want the girl. The more time I spend with her, the more I want to dominate and take my wife as my own.
And that makes me feel sick.
Chapter 22
Fallon
I spend a lazy day in the spa, thanks to my new last name. The employees fawn over me, offer whatever service I want, all paid for by the Costa family’s endless credit line. I accept their attention because really, I feel like hell and could use a little something to feel human again, and I’m pretty sure it works. By the time night comes around and I’m back in the condo, I’m back to myself. Mostly, at least.
I’m eating dinner in front of the TV when Jayson comes home. He opens a bottle of wine and pours himself a glass, looking at me from the island. I’m not sure what to say, but he comes over and joins me, sitting on the opposite end of the couch.
“Room service?” he asks.
“I’ll buy real groceries one of these days.”
“No need. Have the front desk do it for you.”
“That’s an option?”
“Anything’s an option for you now.” He says it lazily as if that’s obviously true.
“The extent of my newfound power hasn’t become clear to me just yet. I’m not sure what I can and can’t do as a Costa.”
“There aren’t limits, and if you do manage to find something you shouldn’t, Adler will send a goon to break your kneecaps.” He says that last part with a smile. “Seriously, it’s fine. The casino is fair game. Do what you want.”
“Thanks. I was in the spa all day.”
“Good for you.” He sighs and sips his drink. “I don’t want you to get drunk tonight.”
My eyebrows raise. “Oh, no, are you the controlling type? You’re going to monitor my alcohol intake?”
“That’s not what I mean. You used it as a defense mechanism. You got wasted to make sure I wouldn’t take advantage of you. I don’t want you to do that again. I want you to remember sleeping in bed with me.”
I hesitate, not sure why he’s doing this, or why it’s so important to him. But I think of what he told me this morning. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.
“I’m not a victim.” I blurt it out, unable to help myself. My ears are bright red.
He cocks his head. “That’s been bothering you for a while, hasn’t it?”
“You called me a victim. I’m not a fucking victim. My father’s the victim. My dead cousins are the victims.”
“Are you sure about that?” He swirls his drink, looking lazy, almost like he doesn’t care. “You grew up in that clan of yours. You admitted that you’ve never been touched by a man before. I can imagine your life has been sheltered.”