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)
I don’t have time to process what just happened as I tumble forward, champagne glasses slipping from my hands as I brace for impact. Glass shatters on the floor, and I envision my head cracking open with a familiar and sickening sound. But by some small miracle, that doesn’t happen.
One second I’m staring down death by marble floor, and the next, I’m swept up against the immovable wall that is Cristian Vitale.
A few seconds pass as I catch my breath, and I don’t realize how tightly I’m gripping him until I look up.
His entire body has gone rigid, and his gaze is fixed on my hands that are currently clutching the fabric of his suit. It’s not a shocking reaction, considering I’ve noticed him tense like this before. We could be three feet apart, and he’d still consider it too close.
He’s uncomfortable, and I should be too, because this kind of physical proximity usually rattles me. But my brain seems to be malfunctioning, and I’m having difficulty moving at all.
We remain in that awkward moment for too long, until a welcome distraction arrives as a server rushes in to clean up the mess. But one look from Cristian stops her in her tracks.
“Don’t,” he tells the woman, redirecting his gaze over my shoulder. “Libby will do it.”
I pry my fingers off him, attempting to regain my composure as I turn to see the woman in question trying to scurry off. I’m not even surprised it was her who tripped me, most likely at Isobel’s bidding. But any amusement she may have had disappears as the onlookers block her escape.
With no other choice, she scans the crowd in a silent plea, as if one of them might speak up on her behalf. When none of them do, she lifts her gaze to Cristian’s, quiet indignation warring with her humiliation.
“I think it’s time you learned to clean up your own messes,” Cristian says, his voice unwavering in its authority.
I doubt there’s a person in this room who would defy his order. Though I’m certain I appreciate that tone far more than Libby does right now.
With trembling hands, she sinks to the floor in disgrace, her face reddening as the server gives her the cleaning supplies. It takes her a few minutes of scrambling around on her knees to mop up the champagne and shards of glass, and when she’s finished, she lifts her gaze to Cristian for approval.
“Now apologize,” he says.
She opens her mouth to speak, but he shakes his head. “Not to me.”
Her humiliation burns hotter as she forces her gaze to mine and swallows the words she really wants to say.
“I’m sorry,” she clips out. “It was an accident.”
“It wasn’t an accident,” Cristian corrects her. “Try again.”
Libby releases a shuddering breath, lowering her voice as she apologizes a second time. I’m aware that it’s not even remotely genuine, but I accept it nonetheless.
“What the hell is going on over here?” Marco cuts through the crowd, his gaze bouncing between the three of us.
“Something you should have dealt with a long time ago.” A note of irritation bleeds through Cristian’s tone.
Marco observes the narrow distance between Cristian and me, and laughably, his eyes take on a territorial gleam as he approaches.
He dismisses Libby without even glancing at her, telling her to go find Isobel. Then he meets Cristian’s gaze as he grabs me around the waist and yanks me against him.
“Jesus, Marco,” I hiss as my ankle throbs in agony.
I was hoping I hadn’t reinjured it in the near-fall, but Marco’s assholery has just confirmed it. As usual, he’s completely oblivious to the issue as he initiates a bizarre display of male posturing with Cristian.
Marco has always been a man who needs validation, but I’ve never seen him act like this toward Cristian, and I have to assume it’s because he’s drunk.
If he had two functioning brain cells, he would not be challenging his friend, and especially not Cristian Vitale. While Marco may be rich and his family name carries a lot of weight in this city, there’s no question Cristian could squash him like a bug if he started a rift between them.
Eventually, Marco backs down, and Cristian levels him with his icy gaze before he walks away without another word.
I’m still staring after him, trying to make sense of what just happened, when Marco grinds his erection against me.
“Let’s go upstairs and fuck,” he growls.
“What is wrong with you?” I try to extricate myself from his grasp, but he tightens his grip on me.
“What’s wrong with me?” he mocks. “How about the fact that my girlfriend’s acting like she wants to whore herself out to my friends in front of everyone? Do you have any idea how that made me look?”
My stomach revolts at his words, and for a second, I’m too shocked to respond.