Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Now that’s an overreaction.” The chuckle was in her voice.
“When this bullshit is over, I’ll come over with a pizza.”
“That sounds so nice,” she said. “I wish I could just come here and be with you. I wish we didn’t have to lie. Didn’t have to pretend to mean nothing to each other. That I could be with you and my father at the same time.”
My heart sank at her admission because I didn’t see that as a reality. I didn’t see Dante ever accepting me as the man she wanted to be with. Maybe he would tolerate it—at the most. But the three of us going out to dinner together, stuff like that…that just wouldn’t happen. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
The party was starting to die down, and most of the guests had already left. I mingled with people I knew, the conversation always leading to business, because that was what these events were all about. We might be dressed in gowns and tuxes with fancy drinks in our hands, but we were still doing back-alley deals.
I hadn’t seen Dante or Giovanni in a while, so I assumed they’d hit it off in their private chambers. The business would expand to a new frontier, and even though I was singularly responsible for that success, he would act like I didn’t do shit. If he weren’t Scarlett’s father and he weren’t making me even richer than I already was, I would have crossed him a long time ago.
I stood with a drink in one hand, the other in my pocket, listening to one of the guys talk about the recent shipment issues. Severe weather had affected several cargo ships in the Atlantic, and then one of the passages had been blocked by a tanker issue. It caused all kinds of problems for all kinds of industries. But my eyes glanced past him to the woman who caught my eye.
She spoke with a woman she knew, wearing a fake smile that was still stunning. She held herself with a strong posture, always keeping her arms at her sides rather than fidgeting or crossing them. It was a silent stance of confidence, the same kind her father exuded, and I’d wondered if she inherited that or just picked up on it.
My stare remained, seeing the golden necklace around her throat, the bracelet on her wrist. Her hair looked so soft. I could practically feel it graze my fingertips. When this boring evening finally came to a close, I could have her away from everyone else, in the little apartment that had become a sanctuary. In the morning, she would make breakfast, one of her lighter-than-air pastries, and she would serve it wearing one of my t-shirts.
Those were the moments I lived for now, not the late-night drops or the clandestine meetings. The adrenaline didn’t hit me anymore. It was the peace she gave me that provided me the biggest hit.
Someone else moved into my view.
It was Dante.
He came to Scarlett’s side, but his eyes were locked on mine from across the room, and his look was easy to read. He brought his glass to his lips and took a drink as he stared me down, threatening me to look away.
But I stared anyway.
I went home and waited for her to text me.
I wasn’t sure if Dante would drop her off right away or if they would go out for something to eat or a drink. That seemed unlikely because it was already midnight, but the last thing I wanted was for him to walk her to her apartment and figure out that I was already there waiting for her.
I wasn’t sure what his look meant. Did he suspect I was still bedding his daughter? Or did he suspect that I still wanted her? I hoped it was the second one. It would be stupid to make an assumption based on a single stare, but Dante was a stupid man.
She texted me. Are you still coming over?
Been waiting for you to text me. I’d already changed out of my tux and put on my sweatpants…since she liked them so much.
Then get your ass over here.
Yes, ma’am. It was the first time I’d smiled all evening. I’ll pick up a pizza on the way.
Good. I hate all that pretentious shit.
I left my place, grabbed a pizza on the way, and then entered her apartment. The second I walked inside, I stilled…because she was on the couch in black lingerie. Stockings. A teddy. A see-through push-up bra.
I dropped the pizza on the entryway table without taking my eyes off her.
She was positioned on the couch, her feet tucked near her thighs, her beautiful hair pushed to one side. Her makeup was darker too, like she added a shadow to her eyelids. Her chin was propped on her curled fingers. “Still thinking about that blonde?” she asked with a voice full of venom.