Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
The intonation with which he says the word “wife” sends chills all over my body.
But I have to ignore it. “Gee, I’m looking forward to that,” I mutter to myself.
He hums. “What’s that?”
“Nothing,” I say.
He tips my chin sideways, making me look at him again. “You think I’m the devil. Say it.”
“Yes,” I reply.
“I’m not the monster you think I am.”
“Right,” I reply sarcastically. “I’m not dumb. I know what it means to become a wife to someone like you. I know what kind of duties are expected of me, but don’t for a second think I’m going to do any of that. I don’t even know you.”
He nods a few times. “That’s right, you don’t know me. But you will. Eventually. I’ll make sure of that.” He smirks and tucks a strand of my hair behind my ear. “And I will definitely make sure that I get to know you very, very well.”
Why does it feel like he means more than my personality?
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I never asked for any of this.”
“No? Then why did you take the tracker with you?”
My eyes widen.
Shit.
“You could’ve left it behind, but you chose to bring it to the wedding because you wanted me to come and rescue you, like a damsel in distress,” he says.
“I did not.” I frown. “I never asked you for anything.”
He puts a finger on my lips. “You don’t have to ask for anything, Tesoro. Not with me.”
He leans away again, but the air is thick with unspoken tension.
And I don’t know if it’s because of how he just brutally murdered Lucio’s men and forced me to marry him … or if it’s because I can feel his eyes practically tearing the clothes off my body.
STELLA
I clear my throat as I stare out the window again. We finally get to a giant mansion after driving through a set of gates and a lavish garden full of expensive flowers and trees. The property is huge, and I can only imagine the kind of wealth it would take to buy something like this. A family fortune, reminiscent of that of my dad’s before he became estranged from our family and decided that the only way we were going to access that money would be by marrying someone he’d approve of. Someone like Lucio. I shiver at the memory of standing next to him at the altar.
The car comes to a stop on the pebble path in front of the mansion, and Matteo is the first to step out of the car. My door is still locked, but he walks around and opens it for me, then holds out his hand like some kind of fake gentleman. I narrow my eyes at him, but still grab his hand and let him guide me out of the car.
“Chivalrous … For a man who just crashed my wedding and stole me away as his bride.”
He smirks. “Not as my bride. As my wife. And I’d do it again, if it meant seeing that fucker’s face seethe like a bursting volcano while I take his precious prize away from him.”
I roll my eyes and sigh away the rage before I walk into the mansion by myself, where his people are already waiting for us—staff members, maids, assistants, the whole shebang.
Good God, this guy is even richer than Lucio.
“Good day, ma’am,” one of the girls at the front of the door says. “I’m Leticia, nice to meet you.”
“And my name is Sarah,” another girl says as she takes my cloak.
“Let me show you around the house, ma’am,” Leticia offers.
She grabs my hand and shows me the kitchen, the dining room, the study, the living room, a guest room, and a game room, all on the ground floor. Each floor is lined with marble, expensive statues are everywhere, and the paintings hanging from the walls must be at least a million each. This man sure appreciates his art.
When we get back to the hallway, Matteo has already walked inside, and he straightens his jacket as he looks at me.
“I’ll take over from here,” he tells Leticia.
She nods and smiles. “Yes, sir, of course.”
He holds out his arm, and I stare at him for a second, wondering what he wants from me, if he really expects me to pretend that I’m his newly wed, happy wife.
How long do I have to fake my way through this? Months? Years?
I hesitantly hook my arm through his, letting him guide me upstairs.
“Let me show you to your room,” he says.
“My room?” I frown.
“You didn’t think I’d let you sleep on the floor now, did you?” he jokes. “Of course, you have your own room.”
“No, I just …” A blush breaks out on my cheeks as I interrupt my own train of thought. “I assumed too much.”
A devilish smirk appears on his face. “What? You assumed I would force you to sleep in my bed? That can be arranged, if you prefer.”