Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87155 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 436(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“Because you sleep like the dead. I tried knocking like a normal person, believe me.”
He looked at me, furrowed his eyebrows, sniffed, then zeroed in on the empty bottle of wine lying on its side near the window. My gaze followed his, surprised. Had I drunk the whole thing?
“You’re drunk,” he said.
“No.” I shook my head, but it hurt so I stopped. “I was drunk. Now I’m hungover.”
He grinned, shaking his head.
“No, sweetheart, you’re still drunk.”
Sweetheart.
Ha.
“How did you find me?” No one knew where I was, not even Lina. Only my lawyer, so I could sign whatever I needed to sign and get Lina away from my grandfather.
“It wasn’t easy.”
“What do you want?” I asked, blinking hard, forcing my eyes to stay open.
He moved around the room and went over to the phone, picked it up, and ordered coffee and some bottles of water. The water sounded good.
“Come on, you’re having a shower.”
He took my arm and started to move me toward the bathroom.
“No, I’m not. I’m going back to bed as soon as I drink that water you ordered. Go away.”
“I don’t think so.”
He lifted me in his arms when I wouldn’t go willingly and deposited me in the bathroom.
“Strip.”
“Fuck you.”
“You already said that on the annulment papers, remember?” A knock came at the door. “Strip, and get in the shower while I get that.”
“No.”
But he walked away to answer the door, leaving me alone to do as he said. Well, like I said, he could go fuck himself.
I sat down on the edge of the tub and ran a bath instead.
I heard him thank the room-service man. A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened again, and he stepped inside with a bottle of water. I still hadn’t undressed, but he seemed pleased I was running the water.
“Here.”
He handed me the bottle. I took it and drank almost all of it down while he went back into the other room. He returned with a cup of coffee.
“You shouldn’t drink an entire bottle of wine.”
“Like you care.” I took the coffee from him and drank a long sip. It was good. I felt a little more human.
“I do care. I told you that already. What the hell was with that Return to Sender with the big ole fuck you, Sofia?”
“You didn’t like it?”
“No. You’re being immature.”
“Well, I am a little girl, right? Isn’t that what you said?” I drained the coffee and handed him the empty cup. “Excuse me while I have a bath.”
“I’ll stay right here.” He set the cup on the counter.
“What do you want, Raphael? You want my signature? After everything, you just want to erase this whole thing like it never happened? Well, you can’t just do that. It doesn’t work that way.” I swore at the tears that threatened and shifted my attention to switching off the water.
“You almost got killed because of me.”
“No, not because of you. Because of my grandfather.”
“I’m giving you back your freedom.”
“You’re getting paid.”
“It’s not about the money.”
“You sure were quick to sign. “Five minutes or the offer expires.” You were tripping over yourself to sign.”
“Did you hear a word I said to you in that office?”
“The lies, you mean? You told me once not to make a saint out of you. Well, I heard that, loud and clear. You’re not a saint. Got it. Remembered it. It was just a hell of a lot easier to walk away and tell me you were doing it for me. Admit it, Raphael. Admit it was easier. Then get the hell out of my life.”
I felt stronger, like the effects of the wine were wearing off. Maybe it was the water or the coffee, but I had a feeling it was the anger inside me burning away the alcohol more than anything else.
But then he said what he said.
“If you wanted me out of your life, you would have signed the annulment papers.”
And I knew it was true. He was right. If I wanted him out, I would have signed and put all this behind me.
“I’ve changed my mind, anyway. You’re not going anywhere, Sofia.”
“Not until you have my signature, you mean? Did you bring a clean copy of the paperwork?”
“You’re being stupid.”
“No, I think the word is naive. You used that once too, didn’t you? You had my number all along. I was the fool to fall for it, for your tortured soul act. Get out. I mean it.”
“No.”
“Get the fuck out.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Fine. You want me out? Make me go.”
I narrowed my eyes and went toward him. With both my hands on his hard chest, I shoved him backward.
Except he didn’t move.
“You’re going to have to do better than that.”
“Fuck you.”
“Is that an offer?”
I shoved again. Again, nothing.
“Get out. I mean it,” I said, hands fisted at my sides.