Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
“Thanks for the reminder.”
He pauses at the canvas I was working on earlier. He leans in to study it, saying nothing as his gaze roams over every stroke of my paintbrush. Finally, he says, “You’re very talented.”
I don’t know why it makes me angry to hear it. Probably because my art is my happy place, and he is the complete opposite.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Say what you came to say and then leave.”
He looks away from the canvas, amused. “You don’t take compliments very well.”
“No, I don’t take being bullied and manipulated into marrying someone very well.”
He turns to face me, and it’s hard not to acknowledge why New York has fallen in love with him. His presence is larger than life. Custom suit. Chiseled good looks. An impersonation of Satan down pat.
“I thought I should bring you this.” He reaches into his breast pocket and removes a velvet box and hands it to me.
I know what it is before I even open it.
But even then, I can’t stifle the gasp when I open it to see the biggest diamond ring winking at me from a bed of black velvet.
It’s a square-cut diamond on a band of platinum gold. Simple and elegant. And so clear and pure that it could probably settle the national debt.
Nico removes the ring and slides it onto my finger.
“Now it’s official,” he says.
He smiles, and for a split second, I see the ghost of the boy I used to love, and my stomach twists into a thousand tiny knots.
No, that boy is long gone.
I sigh, worn out by my emotions. “Why are you doing this, Domenico?”
“Why do you call me Domenico?”
“It’s your name, isn’t it?”
He pauses. “You never used to call me Domenico. It was always Nico.”
“I never used to loathe the very sight of you either, but here we are.”
He smirks. “You used to love me.”
I tense and take a step back, suddenly vulnerable at the mention of our past.
Him saying it with a smirk twists the knots in my stomach so tight I could double over with pain.
“I stopped loving you the night of my eighteenth birthday. You remember that date, don’t you, Domenico? It was the night you were supposed to come and find me… isn’t that what you said when we were torn apart as teenagers? I will find you. No matter where you are. Well, you’re a decade too late and I am no longer interested.”
“Ah, the naive promises of a naive young man who had yet to learn the truth about love and all the dark shadows that live there,” he says with an edge to his voice. His eyes burn with a dark fire as he steps closer, towering over me. “Do you want to know why I chose not to come that night?”
Even though it’s been ten years, hearing him admit he chose not to find me hurts. Because somewhere deep inside me, I was still clinging to the hope that maybe I’d gotten it wrong. That some wild act of God had prevented him from finding me and whisking me away to be his queen. A flood or a tornado, perhaps. A coma. Fucking anything. But to hear that he chose not to show up… it still fucking stings after all this time.
I tighten my jaw. “No, I don’t want to know. Because your reason means nothing to me. Just like you mean nothing to me.” He glares at me, and I glare back. “You might’ve backed me into a corner so I have to marry you. But nothing in this world will make me love you.”
His eyes grow darker, if that is even possible, and they narrow. “Is that so?”
“I’m just your toy. You can bend me any which way you like, and you can play make-believe with me until the cows come home. But just like a toy, I won’t feel anything toward you. It will all be in your head. Do you understand me? Nothing but the imagination of a sad little rich man.”
He takes a menacing step toward me, and the temperature in the room drops dramatically.
“Make no mistake, Bella, you will be my wife,” he growls. “You will take my name, my legacy, my family fortune, and in return, I will have everything you have to offer.” He sweeps his gaze up and down the length of me. “Mind and body.”
Goose bumps ripple across my skin.
“You’re delusional if you think I’ll let you touch me.”
He backs me up until I feel the wall behind me. “Do you know what I do to men who don’t give me what I want?” His eyes are impossibly dark. “I take it.”
I grit my teeth. “Of course, you do. Because that’s what monsters do.”
His gaze burns, and the menace in his eyes is deep and violent.