The Italian Billionaire’s Abandoned Wife Read Online Marian Tee

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
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I had never felt anything like it before. It should have terrified me, but instead I let it draw me in, the unusual heat he exuded making me lick my lips—-

Oh.

Did his eyes just narrow?

“This is my sister Anneke.” Jaak’s words drew my attention back to him momentarily, but when I glanced back at my brother’s friend, it was like I had only imagined the change in his gorgeous features.

I must have imagined it then. Right?

Jaak gestured carelessly to his companion. “Anneke, this is Marcus Ravelli. He’s staying with us for the summer.”

Marcus. I adjusted the old pair of glasses perched on my nose while I tested the man’s name in my mind. Marcus Ravelli. The name suited him. It sounded manly and sophisticated, mysterious and—-

Wait.

My gaze flew back to my brother. Had I heard him correctly? Was I going to live under the same roof with Mr. Italian Perfection over there?

When Jaak glanced at me oddly, I flushed and quickly rose to my feet, realizing I had been gaping all the while. I turned towards Marcus, telling myself to play it cool and act totally normal.

Hi. Heya. What’s up?

That was what I wanted to say.

But old habits died hard.

“Good afternoon.” I wanted to kick myself as soon as the words were out.

When Marcus’ lips twitched, I also realized that I was already halfway to offering him a handshake, and I managed to pull my arm back in time.

Stop being so formal, Anneke!

Marcus Ravelli closed the distance between us, and I fought against the urge to step back as his presence threatened to overwhelm me. “Ciao, bambina.” His accent was exquisite, but as his dark eyes slid over me, I found myself reminded of three things.

One: I was still in my teddy bear PJs.

Two: I hadn’t taken a bath for two days.

Three: My nose still felt a bit runny, thanks to getting my heart broken as the last minutes of Dawson’s Creek’s season finale played out.

It was like being punched with a three-hit-combo, the knowledge of just how awful I looked right now frying my brain—-

Ah! Wah! Gah!

—-and I found myself at a loss.

What should I do first?

Switch the TV off to salvage my reputation as the smart, sensible girl in the family?

Pretend I was sick so I had an excuse for my unwashed hair?

Or maybe I should just run out of the living room screaming because it wasn’t fair that these guys would always be prettier than me.

Before I could make up my mind, Jaak’s friend murmured, “Cute pajamas.”

My mouth opened and closed. He sounded sincere enough, but the devilish gleam in his dark eyes threw me off.

“Cute but ancient,” Jaak slotted in. “It’s also the only thing she likes to wear in her bum phase.”

Oh, Jaak...you moron.

“She doesn’t even bother taking a shower at times.”

I gaped at my brother, and I said in a strangled tone, “TMI, hello?” I couldn’t believe how Jaak had managed to murder my reputation in a matter of seconds.

“It’s not,” Mr. Insensitive dismissed. “You don’t need to hide anything from Marcus.”

I didn’t?

“Marcus knows Willem and Nic, too. We’ve been friends with him for years, so he’s like family,” my brother elaborated.

He was?

Jaak’s gaze turned towards the TV and groaned. “You’re still not done drooling over that Pacey guy?”

That was it.

I had only met Marcus Ravelli barely five minutes ago, and the man had already been exposed to all of my deepest, darkest secrets.

“Please do not feel embarrassed on my account, bambina.” His tone was all dark and mysterious, and although I had no idea what ‘bambina’ meant, it sounded cute. It made me feel cute, and that was rare.

“Your brother is only making me jealous. He knows how much I envy him for having a big family. It’s always been a dream of mine to have a little sister I could torture...”

Something gleamed in his eyes when he murmured the last word, and I felt something inside me tighten.

But when I looked back at him, it was gone, Marcus finishing smoothly, “And of course I also want a sister I can be overprotective with.”

Right. I wasn’t quite sure I believed him about that, but I said politely, “That’s sweet.”

“It is sweet,” Jaak interjected easily, “but also unrealistic in your case, since you’re a year older than him.”

Moron.

Jaak was such a moron.

“It’s how she looks that matters,” Marcus rebutted, “so I stand by what I say.” And then his lips curved ever so slightly as he glanced back at me. “You agree, don’t you, bambina?”

Oh, Marcus...you prince.

But I couldn’t say that, just like I couldn’t make myself even think of not-so-nice things about anyone. Years of living under Willem de Konigh’s watchful eye had effectively trained all forms of rudeness and coquetry out of me. In the end, I could only say lamely, “You can just call me Anneke.” I tried not to wince as the words slipped past my lips.


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