Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 27737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 92(@300wpm)
No pain. No anger. No trauma.
Even when I've done my best not to think of him—-
Why?
He still gives a shit about me for some reason.
Why, dammit?
Even though a part of me has refused all these years to believe God can fix me—-
It's just something you feel.
Just something you know and can't deny.
When he's on the move, you just know.
Just like I how also know—-
Good riddance.
God could've been the only one to make that slimeball suddenly feel shame over what he's done, but it gives me neither pleasure nor sadness as I watch Simon pale and look away.
My father tries to stop him from leaving, but Simon only shoves him away as he walks off.
My father stares at me angrily. "Now, look at what you've—-"
I turn my back on him, and I can practically feel his rage burning even when I no longer see him. He's always been too fucking proud, and with not one but two people walking away from him in front of other famiglie, I'm sure the humiliation is too much, and that's why...
Any time now...
He'll probably pull my hair back.
Or kick me from behind.
He's done that before.
And he'll likely get away with it because parental abuse is nothing new in the world we live in.
Perdonami, signora.
Remorse pinches my heart when I think of the ruckus that's likely to follow. Can I even forgive myself if my father losing his temper somehow affects negotiations, and—-
Here it comes.
My heart feels like it's about to explode.
Someone's coming towards me from behind.
But just as I squeeze my eyes shut and brace myself for the worst—-
"Mi dispiace, sono in ritardo." I'm sorry I'm late.
Strong, warm fingers slip between mine, and I automatically resume walking even when my eyes are still closed.
Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck him.
Because I still need an extra second to keep my emotions in check.
I will never forgive him if I end up crying in public like this.
His grip tightens around mine.
Never ever ever!
We come to a stop, and I have no choice but to open my eyes.
Oh.
We're in front of the elevator, and I find myself staring at our reflection...while Giancarlo stares at me.
"Fuck you," I hiss under my breath.
Giancarlo sighs. "Have you forgotten, signorina?"
"I've forgotten nothing—-"
"Things have already changed between us," he says softly. "And that's why I can no longer let such things slip."
What the fuck does that mean?
The elevator doors open, and I'm tempted to resist getting in with him.
"Don't even think about it," Giancarlo drawls. "Unless of course, you wish to make things worse."
I hate, hate, hate him, but I hate myself even more because his threat fucking worked, and I end up following him meekly inside the elevator.
The doors have barely closed when Giancarlo makes a call, and what...what the fuck?
My heart jumps to my throat when Giancarlo pockets his phone.
Did I just hear him tell someone to turn the cameras off, and—-fuck!
Giancarlo calmly presses the huge red button on the panel, and the elevator shudders to a stop.
"What do you think you're doing?" I burst out.
"I needed to talk to you in private."
"Then wait until we get home!"
"Some things must never be delayed, and this is one of them."
What the hell is this even?
"If this is about my father—-"
"We'll talk about that later, but for now—-I need you to remember this lesson."
What lesson?
"As my future bride, you are expected to set an example and be mindful of your words."
I don't know whether to laugh or call 911 because we've got a madman on the loose.
"That's what can't be delayed? You want to give me a lesson because I fuc—-"
Giancarlo crosses his arms over his chest oh so slowly...and whatever I have to say simply dies in my throat.
How does he do it, dammit?
How is it that he only has to look at me a certain way, and my courage instantly flees like it knows it will never stand a chance against him?
"Two things are known to motivate humans."
Reward or punishment.
Dark eyes gleam at me in approval, and my stupid heart actually skips a beat at this.
"Since it's obvious you already know what I'm getting at, make your choice then. Promise me you'll watch your language from here on, and I will be your reward—-"
All I can do is choke.
The fucking gall of this jerk!
"Or you can continue defying me, and I will be your punishment."
His lips slowly curve in a smirk, and oh, how I fucking wish I had the guts to slap the shit out of his too-handsome face.
"What kind of choice is that? There isn't even any difference—-"
"Ah, but there is," Giancarlo assures me. "A world of difference, in fact, and you'll know once you experience both."
If he's saying I should also allow myself to be punished just to know the difference—-
Thanks, but fuck no.
"Make your choice now," he says, "as I still have a meeting to attend."