Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 471(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
I’m caught by a powerful set of arms a second before Giovanni’s earthy and expensive cologne fills my senses. A comforting illusion of safety swamps me as everything fades to black. I shouldn’t want Giovanni’s comfort or protection, but I do. Badly.
14
GIOVANNI
Fleeting lights from Carlisle’s cityscape streak Valentina’s beautiful face when they pass the tinted windows of my town car. She’s sprawled on the seat opposite mine, her head lolling with the car’s gentle sways. Her parted lips suggest her sleep is unaffected by the sedative that stole memories of the procedure that will bind her to me for eternity.
Valeria hasn’t assembled the puzzle pieces as effectively as I have. She’s still of the belief that Valentina has something she owns.
I’ve yet to reach the same conclusion.
Dr. Di Petro said that instead of retrieving Valentina’s eggs, they implanted Valeria’s embryos inside her. Instead. Not after the procedure she’d gone to the clinic to have. Not in addition to. He implied that the egg retrieval procedure had been completely overlooked.
This not only boosts the chances of conception but also places Valentina alongside Valeria as the potential mother of my child. It isn’t solely from the number of embryos inserted, which was only two since Valeria refused to carry multiples, fueling my campaign, but also that we failed to use protection.
Last night, I took Valentina bare—more than once.
I’ve never been more grateful for the lapse in judgment.
Although I’m not an expert on women’s psyches, the pamphlets I perused during Valeria’s repeated visits to the clinic taught me that women are more fertile during the stimulation of eggs. Valeria also offered that as her excuse when she snuck into my bed earlier this month. She hoped a meaningless hookup would mean avoiding an invasive procedure.
While she’ll never admit this, she also desired our partnership to seem legitimate and would do whatever was necessary to make that attainable.
I once again opposed her plans. I’d met Valentina by then, and no amount of alcohol could have me mistaking Valeria’s waif-thin frame for Valentina’s sultry curves. I also didn’t want it to. Perfection can’t be copied, and no man would sign up for a cheap imitation.
As hope thickens both my veins and my cock, I watch Valentina’s chest rise and fall. Her slow, steady breaths are a comfort amidst my fury over her unconsciousness. While the world outside is a chaotic blur of revenge plots and death notes, in here, time feels suspended.
Calm always precedes a storm.
Valeria clears her throat, unsubtly reminding me that she’s beside me. Her posture is rigid, and her hands wring the silk handkerchief I refused to use to ensure Valentina didn’t “get away.”
I don’t mind if she runs.
The chase will mark the commencement of our foreplay, and I’m more than ready to have Valentina back underneath me.
Valeria’s tension is palpable. It’s the kind of anger that makes my jaw ache from tensing it too frequently, and it worsens when her sniveling words infiltrate my ears. “How do you know her?”
When I arch a brow, silently warning that I don’t answer to anyone, she lowers her tone. Too bad it does nothing to diminish the whistle of audacity in her words.
“You’re looking at her like you know her. Like she isn’t some random woman who came in and snatched our child out from beneath us.”
“What happened was a mistake.” Not even her pounding pulse would have her missing my scathing tone. “Valentina didn’t do anything wrong.”
Valeria scoffs. “She did this on purpose, Giovanni. I know she did.” I’m about to point out that her insults to Valentina are also insults to me, but she keeps talking before I can. “You fucked her, didn’t you? She’s the girl your brothers have been talking about all month. The damsel in distress you swooped in and saved.”
“If I did?” My tone is a warning that I’m at the end of my rope.
She pays it no attention. “Then you fell into her trap like Dante did Camille’s mother, and for what?” A bitter, jealousy-filled laugh reverberates around the cab of the car. “She isn’t even your type.”
Even though her eyes are red from crying, and more than mascara clumps her lashes together, I still struggle not to respond to her ill-formed misconceptions with violence. For one, this is nothing like what Dante went through. Not even close. And two, Valentina is more than my type.
She is the only option.
Valeria locks gazes with me, and her eyes plead for me to understand. “When we were filling out our paperwork, she mentioned how similar our names were. She joked about how it would be easy for the clinic to get us mixed up. She seemed hopeful. Like she wanted it to happen.”
With a scoff, I shake my head. “Why would she do that? What benefit could she get from a mix-up like this?”