Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 62590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 313(@200wpm)___ 250(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
He stills, eyes on the road. I see his Adam’s apple bob.
“I’ve worshipped you since the day you showed up at our house. What I feel for you doesn’t even come close to…no, I don’t even want to compare. John wasn’t even real. He was…nothing but an outward reflection of how I felt about myself. I was trying to prove something. That I fit in. That I was desirable. And the only reason I thought I cared about him was because I somehow thought if he liked me, it meant I was doing something right. But none of that was love.”
Carlo still won’t look over. His breath sounds ragged. His hands grip and regrip the steering wheel.
Tears of regret fill my eyes. “I’m sorry it took me too long to figure that all out. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
Now he finally looks at me. “Principessa.” He sounds choked. He reaches out and brushes my hair back from my face with more tenderness than I’ve ever received. “I would take a million blows if it meant having you at the end of it all.”
I let out a sob-laugh. “There won’t be anymore.”
Carlo’s lips twist wryly. “I’m not sure about that. Your dad’s going to kill me for this.” His jaw flexes. “I’m so sorry you got hurt because of me.”
“I would take a million blows if it meant having you at the end of it all,” I whisper his words back to him.
Carlo pulls up in front of his apartment and helps me out of the car then swings me up into his arms.
“My legs aren’t hurt,” I protest, nuzzling my face into his neck.
“I don’t care. I’m carrying you.” There’s a stubborn note to his voice. Almost like he’s not going to let me leave his arms again.
I try very hard not to swoon.
“Are we okay?”
“Yeah, baby, we’re okay.” His tone is soft and indulgent.
“Are we back together?”
The corners of his lips hike up. “You sure you want me?”
“I’m positive. You’re all I want. The only man for me.”
“Then you’re mine.” His lips find my neck, and he kisses and nibbles at it as he carries me up the stairs and into his apartment.
“Fanculo,” he curses softly when he sees the state of the place.
“I know.”
“You came here to see me?”
“Yeah.” I shudder remembering.
He lowers me slowly to my feet. Cookies and Cream come running and mewing, and I scoop them both up. “He…did this while you were here?”
“No. It was like this when I got here. He stood behind the bedroom door and grabbed me when I came through.”
Carlo curses again, dragging a hand through his hair. “I should’ve been the one to kill him.” I see the danger behind his glower and shiver again.
Carlo’s gaze falls on the plate of brownies I brought over. His expression softens. The murder falls away. “You baked for me.”
“I know it’s dumb, I just wanted to do something–”
He catches my face in his hands. “Not dumb. Sweet. You’re so sweet. Come here, principessa.” He urges me onto the couch. “Let’s get some ice on your face.”
He wraps an icepack in a towel, and I hold the ice to my nose and forehead.
“It looks like you need some, too.” I eye the purple swelling around his eye and on his jaw.
“Me? No.” He dismisses my concern.
“Take this.” He returns and hands me three ibuprofen and a bottle of water, and I swallow them down. Carlo sits beside me and gathers me against his body, one arm wrapped protectively behind me. “Come here, bambina. I need to hold you.”
I curl into him with the kittens purring in my lap and my legs tangled over his.
“Bambina...I’m so sorry this happened to you,” he chokes.
“It wasn’t your fault.” I loop my arms around his neck. “And I’m fine.”
Maybe it’s a sign of what a spoiled mafia princess I really am, but I had every confidence that Carlo would show up to rescue me. I never doubted for a minute and that faith in him cushioned me from experiencing any emotional trauma. Honestly, I’m glad it happened, if it’s what threw us back together.
Maybe I should be shaken up over the deaths of the Russians–I heard the gunshots and can only assume what happened–but I feel buffered from that somehow, too. Carlo and my father did what they had to do. I don’t question it or judge it. I knew Carlo was a warrior, like my father. Not a man to stand back when confronted.
He strokes my face, looking beyond the bruises and truly studying me. His hazel eyes hold concern, but some of the anguish falls away as I look steadily back at him.
“I’m okay.”
“You’re brave.”
I shake my head. “No. I just knew you’d come for me.”
He blinks rapidly and leans his forehead against mine. “I won’t let anything like this happen to you again. I promise.”