Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 143870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 480(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 480(@300wpm)
“Do you know who that is?” I ask Lucia, trying to keep my voice even.
“It’s Jolie Charbonneau. She’s the daughter of some fancy French Mafia guy,” Lucia explains. “My father said they’re working on a deal with the Italians, so they’ve been making the rounds in all our social circles.”
“What kind of deal?” My throat tightens.
“If I had to guess, it looks like there’s a marriage contract underway, but I’m not sure she can wait to get to the altar.”
Jolie’s hand trails down Cristian’s chest, venturing toward his trousers.
I stand there frozen as it plays out, and for reasons I can’t rationalize, it feels like a punch to the gut.
It also makes me feel like a fool.
“We should get back.” I pivot on my heel. “Don’t want to leave your date waiting.”
“Okay.” Lucia catches up with me. “Thanks again for doing this. If Tommy gets to be too much, just text me.”
I nod, but it doesn’t really matter. The moment I collapse onto the lounge, I sink into a fog of dissociation.
I don’t like this hot, unpleasant feeling, and I can’t stop the slow-motion replay stuck inside my head.
The scene was so similar to the one that happened in my bedroom the night Cristian brought me home. Except in that version, he rejected my advances, triggering the all-too-familiar wound of never being enough.
It’s been an ever-present companion in my life.
I have a whole vault of criticisms that are always available to me, just in case I ever get any big ideas about what I can have. Between my father and my ex-fiancé, I have plenty of material to validate those claims.
If I were enough, maybe they would have actually cared. I wouldn’t have been treated like currency, or something to pass the time. And if I were enough, I wouldn’t be a running joke to Cristian. Because in his world, I’m good enough to be a fake wife, but never a real one.
In my past life, my name may have meant something, even if I despised the man it represented. But in this one, I’m nobody.
For six years, I’ve convinced myself I’m okay with that. Because a nobody stays safe. A nobody flies under the radar and doesn’t get entangled in situations like this.
A nobody never gets her heart broken.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Tommy’s voice pulls me from the fog, forcing me to snap out of it.
“Yeah, sorry, just got lost in my thoughts there for a minute.”
“Looks like you could use another drink,” he suggests.
“Probably.” I laugh.
Kelly brings us another round, and Tommy engages me in conversation while Lucia talks to Gio. She’s four drinks in when Lizzo comes on, and the moment she hears the opening to “Truth Hurts,” she launches out of her seat and fist pumps the air.
“It’s our anthem, babyyyy!” She grabs me by the wrist and drags me out onto the terrace while Gio and Tommy trail behind us.
Her excitement is contagious, and honestly, this song never fails to put me in a better mood.
I focus on the music and try to forget about Cristian as Lucia and I start to dance. After a solid minute of listening to her sing and busting out our best hair wash move, I’m in the moment right along with her.
We make it to the end of the song, and “I’m Good” by David Guetta and Bebe Rexha comes on. Gio steals Lucia for a dance, and Tommy takes her place with me.
“Check this out.” Tommy undulates his hips before dropping to the ground for a body roll.
When he pops back up, he drags a hand down his chest and winks at me, and I can’t help but laugh.
“You totally stole that from Magic Mike, didn’t you?”
“Hell yeah, I did.” He smirks. “Show me what you got.”
Matching his energy, I do a few belly rolls that transition into hip shimmies.
“Oh!” Lucia joins me as I pick up the tempo. “You taught me how to do this.”
Gio and Tommy observe, nudging each other like this is the greatest thing they’ve ever seen.
“I’ll take that as a sign of approval,” Lucia teases them.
In response, Tommy gets down on bended knee, mimicking a proposal. It’s funny—until it’s not.
“Holy shit.” Lucia freezes.
“What?”
“Cristian just clocked us, and he looks like he’s about to raze the earth.”
I pivot to face him, and my spine stiffens as our gazes clash.
Raze the earth might be an understatement.
Cristian has always been the king of control, but right now, there’s an undeniable fracture in his composure. His body is rigid, save for the barely leashed violence simmering beneath the surface.
After my initial shock wears off, it quickly turns to anger. The audacity of this man to look at me like I’m doing something wrong while he’s standing there with Jolie at his side.
They aren’t alone, either. Angelo and another man are with them—presumably the father who will sign off on the marriage contract.