Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
No child deserves this.
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I take a shaky breath. I’m on birth control. The pills were in my toilet bag that Heidi brought to the empty house. I’ll keep on taking them. If Angelo is evil enough to confiscate them, I’ll buy some at the pharmacy, but for that, I’ll need money. I have to figure out a way of earning a few euros without my husband’s knowledge.
I work myself up about finding solutions, but it’s no use. Everything feels hopeless. There’s no point in tiring myself in the hamster wheel of my mind. I’m just mashing my brain by regurgitating the same problems. It will be wiser to save my energy. I’ll take my uncertain and scary future one day at a time. It’s the only way to survive.
A sound next-door pierces my turbulent thoughts. The creaking of bedsprings? Unable to help myself, I get out of bed and tiptoe to the adjoining door. I put my ear against the wood and listen, but not another chirp comes from his room. He’s probably sleeping a sound, drunken sleep after using my body to sate his needs. I smelled the alcohol on his breath.
What am I doing anyway, listening at his door? What am I hoping to discover? That his guilty conscience is keeping him awake?
I scoff and crawl back under the warm covers. For the remainder of the night, I drift in and out of sleep. By sunrise, I’m awake. After taking care of my grooming, I dress in a warm sweater, a pair of jeans, and sneakers. Before going out onto the balcony, I pull on my coat.
It’s a sunny but cold day. The air is fresh with a hint of saltiness drifting in from the sea. The view is just as spectacular as the one at the other house, but with the cultivated garden that frames the cliff, it’s tamer. The nature is wilder at the abandoned house. The beach is wider and longer here. The cliffs form a half moon that embraces the jetty in the center.
The sliding door on Angelo’s side of the balcony opens. I turn my face away from the view. My back goes stiff when he walks out, dressed in dark jeans that hug his lean hips and a black rollneck cashmere sweater that stretches over his broad chest. His thick hair is damp. Stubble darkens his jaw. He showered, but he didn’t shave.
He carries two steaming mugs and half a smile to my side of the balcony. The deliciously spicy and woodsy smell of his cologne reaches me before the rich aroma of the coffee.
“Morning,” he says, placing a mug in my hand. “I thought you could do with some caffeine. I made it the way you like it.” He sips his coffee, studying me from over the rim. “One sugar and lots of cream.”
I eye him with suspicion, inhaling the welcome aroma of the brew.
His lips quirk when he lowers his mug. “Don’t worry. It’s not poisoned.”
“Do you expect me to take your word for that?”
“No,” he drawls, not breaking our eye contact as he takes the mug from me.
Our fingers brush. The light touch contracts my skin. I try to hide my reaction, but he’s too perceptive. Too clever. He smirks, letting me know he’s aware of how he affects me. He watches me as he drinks from my mug before putting it in my hand again. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve said the light in his dark gaze is teasing. He’s probably just mocking me.
Two can play this game. Turning the mug, I place my lips exactly on the spot where his have been as I sip the strong, creamy brew. It’s a subtle act, easy to miss, but the way in which his eyes heat and his jaw flexes gives him away. He noticed. He’s not unaffected either. I suppose that’s something. We may hate each other, but our chemistry has always been strong.
He surprises me by hooking my hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering there in a tender caress.
“You’re very beautiful, Sabella,” he says in a deep, soft voice, staring down at me.
I’m not sure what to say. What do I make of this sudden change from last night?
My mind drifts back to when Heidi and I arrived, to when Angelo stood formidably at the end of the hallway in his classy suit. When he walked toward me, he looked proud and arrogant. But when he apologized for my discomfort, I could’ve sworn there was genuine remorse in his expression. As if he truly regretted it. As if he had a heart.
Spearing his fingers through my hair, he cups my head. “I have to go away for business.” He brushes his thumb over my jaw. “A week at the most.” Up, down. “I need to take care of things in Marseille.” Up, down. “If there’s something you need to tell me, now’s your chance.”