Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 79061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79061 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Fico and Umberto reached her. “Signorina, let us help you.” They tried placing Lane under their umbrellas but she shook her head. “No, p-please.”
“But signorina, you’re getting soaked—-”
“No, please.”
How to explain that she had a feeling Angelo wanted her at her lowest before he’d come out to rescue her?
“Just p-please take a step back. Please?”
“But signorina, it’s raining harder—-”
She choked out, “Please.”
Her two guards reluctantly stepped away.
And she stayed on her knees.
“Signorina, we have to go.”
“No, I have to wait. I think he’s c-coming out any second—-”
But this time, the guards wouldn’t take no for an answer. “I’m sorry, signorina, but we—-”
She shook her head quickly at them. “Don’t say it.” Because if they did, then all hope would be lost.
Lane would just be like everyone else, waiting and hoping for the impossible.
And that was for Angelo Valencia to forget his first love.
A shiver threaded through her body, but she forced herself to ignore the cold.
He would come out anytime now.
Anytime.
And so she waited.
And waited.
And waited.
She would wait here forever until he came.
And he would, wouldn’t he?
Her eyes closed, and Lane’s teeth sank deep into her lower lip as she fought the urge to sob her heart out. Dimly, she heard heavy footsteps make splashing sounds against the wet ground and wondered numbly if Fico and Umberto had also left—-
“Tesoro.”
The rain stopped just as fear trapped the air inside her lungs.
“Open your eyes, tesoro.”
Ah.
She whispered, “I want to. But I’m s-scared. That if I o-open my eyes, I’d r-realize I’m just dreami—-”
A kiss cut the flow of her words.
Lips that felt as cold as hers.
Lips that were so achingly familiar—-
She knew these lips.
It was him.
She pulled away and opened her eyes.
It was him.
Angelo, down on one knee, holding an umbrella over the both of them with one hand, and in his other hand he held a crumpled bouquet of flowers.
He said hoarsely, “I was waiting for you at home, my Lane. I had this whole plan of teasing you then groveling at your feet—-” A crooked smile formed on his lips. “I never thought you’d insist on waiting for me here...”
His eyes were pained as he gazed at Lane.
“I came as soon as I got Fico’s call. I just wish...” Angelo’s tone became unnaturally even. “I just wish I had come sooner—-”
He stopped speaking.
Lane had started to cry again.
Dropping the umbrella and the flowers with a groan, he crushed her to him, and she curled against her chest, sobbing, “I thought you would never come.”
Ah.
No recriminations, no questions about the past, just Lane being true to herself the way he never had the courage to.
Just Lane, saying words that he could easily twist and throw at her face if he wanted to.
She truly was his perfect match.
He pressed trembling lips on her forehead, his chest tightening at the thought of how last night could have so easily made her leave him.
But she hadn’t.
She was still here, and now he could no longer hold the words back.
“I love you, Lane.” He felt her shudder in his arms, and Angelo tightened his hold on her. “I never thought a girl...like you could exist.”
Someone who would crave the kind of pain he desired to inflict—-
Someone who could play this game that had made all other women leave him and hate him—-
Someone who embraced this side of his that he hadn’t been able to risk revealing even...to the other girl—-
And from here on, Angelo realized it would be like that.
Jaike was the other girl now.
Jaike was the one that no longer mattered while Lane...
Lane was the girl.
For him.
The only girl who had wanted to be his from the very start.
He cupped her face with shaking hands. He wanted to tell her all of this, wanted her to know that he was hers.
Irrevocably, he was hers.
Even in the times that she might not want him, he would still be hers.
But as soon as her eyes met his, Angelo was unable to speak.
His throat clogged. “Lane.” He could only choke out her name.
He watched her lips move but no words came out, and he realized it was the same for both of them.
The way they felt—-
It was too much and there were no words to encompass them.
He slowly drew her close.
Their lips met, and the kiss said everything.
Lane started crying again.
Her tears mingled with their kiss, and unspoken words turned into eternal promises.
She cried and cried, and the fall of her tears were a sound that his heart could not escape from.
Despite the strong rain, the thundering skies—-
He heard her tears.
And just like it was supposed to be for them, her pain fed his heart, and what once was dead started beating again.
Chapter Twenty
In an ideal world, when a man loved a woman, and she loved him back, all would be well. Or at least it should be if the man wasn’t a sadist and the woman wasn’t a masochist.