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)
An image of Sabella and Fabien on the sofa, eating popcorn and watching a movie, rushes into my head. I can’t think about the blanket over their knees because what happens under blankets makes me see bright fucking poisonous green. The laughter that drifts from upstairs only acts as fuel on the fire.
I mount the steps two by two and charge like a raging bull through the open door of the bedroom. The scene that greets me makes me wish I took my gun. The urge to plant a bullet in Fabien’s head is so great he must see the intention in my expression.
His eyes flare where he sits on the bed, clutching a glass of wine in his hand and swinging one leg that’s crossed over the other. Another glass with a lip gloss stain on the rim stands on the dresser.
My attention shifts to my wife who exits the bathroom, still giggling about what the fuck ever. She stops dead when she sees me.
Fabien jumps to his feet. “Angelo.” His laugh is uncomfortable. “How good to see you.”
I narrow my eyes. “Is it?”
He blanches. “I was just dropping off Sabella’s dress.”
I fix my gaze on the glass in his hand. “Is that what you call it?”
Sabella rushes forward, placing herself between me and Fabien. “I invited him to stay for a drink.”
“Did you now?” I take in her T-shirt, yoga pants, and bare feet. “In the bedroom?”
“She had to try on the dress,” Fabien says before adding hastily, “In the bathroom.”
“Good,” I drawl, pinning him with a stare over Sabella’s head that makes him cower. “Because if you got a glimpse of my wife in any state of undress, I’ll have to kill you.”
Sabella lays a palm on my chest. “Would you like a glass? The bottle is in the kitchen. I can get you one.”
I tear my gaze from Fabien to look at her, noticing the beauty spot at the corner of her mouth. Her lips. “How was the movie?”
She blinks. “What?”
My smile is cold. “You watched television.”
She pulls her hand away as if my coat has caught fire. “Not with Fabien.”
Fabien sidesteps to the door, leaving his glass on the coffee table on his way. “I’ll, um, just give the two of you privacy. Call me if you’d like jewelry to go with the dress, Angelo. I can get a few valuable pieces on loan from a good jeweler.”
He all but runs, escaping as fast as he can.
“I’ll see you out, Fabien,” Sabella says, giving me a defiant look as she steps around me and follows him into the hallway.
Clenching my hands into balls, I count to ten.
Fabien is gay.
They’re both wearing their clothes.
I did instruct him to deliver a dress.
It makes sense that Sabella would have to try on the gown.
I tell myself all these things, all these reasons why I shouldn’t go after Fabien and bash his skull in. Why I shouldn’t punish Sabella for yet another betrayal. But the monster in me stays green.
Their voices reach me from downstairs. Soft whispering. Too fucking intimate for my liking. I go out on the landing. Fabien is standing in the open front door, buttoning up his coat.
“I’m sorry about that,” Sabella says, sounding embarrassed. “My husband can be a little possessive.”
“Don’t worry. I know how Angelo is.” Gripping her shoulder and dipping his head, he asks in a lowered voice, “Will you be all right?”
“Yes.” She takes a scarf from the coat stand and hands it to him. “Thanks for bringing the dress. Drive home safely in the dark.”
He drops his arm and walks out onto the veranda. “Take care of yourself.”
She shuts the door and locks it, pausing for a second on the spot before turning her face toward the stairs. Our gazes lock. Apprehension sparks in her brown eyes. Instead of walking to me, she cuts across the lounge and enters the kitchen.
She can run until she doesn’t have a single breath left in her lungs, but she can never hide from me.
Taking my coat off in the walk, I descend the stairs and drape it over the rail. When I enter the kitchen, she’s filling the kettle with water.
“Tea?” she asks with a strained smile from over her shoulder. “I’m afraid I didn’t have time to start dinner yet.”
“Dinner?” I chuckle, advancing on her. “Is that why you think I’m here?”
Her back goes rigid. She puts the kettle aside. When she turns, she finds herself trapped between the sink and my body. Leaning back to put distance between us, she asks, “Why are you here?”
“To fuck you, Sabella.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows. “Nothing happened. You must know that Fabien is gay. Why are you so angry?”
Nothing happened.
That was what she told me yesterday too.
Pretty little liar.
When I lean in, she plants her palms on the counter behind her and catches her weight on her arms. I’m bending her backward, invading her space and breathing her air.