Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
I took a cab downtown, wanting to get lost, wandering around Manhattan for the day. Breathing in some much needed fresh air. I even stopped by my studio to pick up the mail that was piling up. Mostly junk mail and letters from students, wanting to know if I was alright and when I'd be back. I also had a postcard from the Royale Ballet theatre. I immediately turned it over thinking Sabrina had written me. But it was blank. I stared at it, feeling his presence all around me.
Martinez.
Even after everything I went through with him, I still felt him. A strong sense he was watching me. More now than ever. I shook off the emotion, going on with my day. The cab dropped me off in front of a newsstand by Central Park. Getting out, I paid him, but green tantalizing eyes caught my immediate attention from the corners of my eyes. I couldn't get away from him even if I tried. Martinez was on the front page of every paper, tabloid, and magazine. It wasn’t just him. A gorgeous woman was on his arm in all the different pictures.
“What the fuck?” I asked myself, stunned and not able to move away from all the articles in front of me. He’d always been so private about his life. Everyone knew who he was, but he never publicized it. He refused. I grabbed all of them, opening them up one by one.
“Most eligible bachelor Alejandro Martinez off the market.”
“Crime Boss Martinez taking the plunge with secret woman.”
“Martinez spotted with mystery woman leaving club Saturday night.”
“Are things getting hot and heavy for this new couple? Could she be the one?”
The last one I flipped to brought tears to my eyes.
“Martinez donates three million dollars to the performing arts in honor of ballet with mystery woman on his arm.”
I bought a copy of all the papers, hailing a cab back to my apartment.
Is this why he left me? Did he fall in love with this woman? When did this happen?
I flew up the stairs, not wanting to waste time waiting for the elevator, taking two of them at a time. Rage overpowering all my senses, blinding me. I could barely fucking see, let alone think straight. Trying to rationalize what was going on. Hyperventilating as I hauled ass into my apartment, slamming the door shut behind me. Throwing all the papers on the living room floor, dropping to my knees, looking for answers, explanations, anything in the fine fucking print. Fuming with every sentence I read. Nothing but media gossip and speculations.
I sat up, pulling the hair away from my face, securing it on top of my head. My eyes darting around the room. My mind spinning with no end in sight. I got up, running into my bedroom, grabbing my laptop. Googling his name. I sat there on my bed watching article upon article blasted in my face. Dates going back as far as the day I fucking left.
More pictures.
More lies.
More truths.
Them dancing, holding her close in his arms. Whispering in her ear. Smiling. Laughing. Calm, serene eyes staring back at her. Holding her hand, kissing it.
Fact or fiction.
Them walking together into his penthouse. Him leading her out of his limo. All the restaurants he ever took me to. All the places we’d been to together. Different suit. Different day. Still the same woman. The pictures were endless.
Them walking out of the Met after a performance of Swan Lake, ABT put on. Pictures on his private jet.
“Oh my God... is that?” My hand flew to my mouth when I saw something shiny hanging off her neck.
He wouldn’t…
Zooming in, it was clear as day. Like a ticking time bomb going off in my heart. It was loud. It was disastrous. It was chaotic. His mother’s silver cross, the one he never took off until he gave it to me, the same exact one I wore for three fucking years was proudly hanging off her neck.
Fact.
Truth.
I was suffocating in it. My heart, my mind, my sanity couldn’t take it anymore. I instantly stood, roughly slamming my laptop shut. Pushing it away before I had the chance to chuck it against the wall. My hands were shaking so badly, I had to place them under my arms. Holding myself from crumbling into pieces. My whole body felt like it was giving out on me. There were too many emotions happening all at the same time. I couldn’t control any of it.
“One day, this will all make sense to you. I promise,” his voice resonated in my head.
I lunged into action, grabbing my keys. Sprinting down the stairs, out to the street, hailing another cab.
“Pull over right here,” I ordered once we arrived. He slammed on the brakes, and I threw money at him before the car even came to a complete stop, skidding to the curb. I ran into Martinez’s building, jumping into the elevator, punching in the code to the penthouse. My heart racing as the seconds ticked by, watching the red numbers count up to the letter P. It dinged open, the mania now replaced with doubt.