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)
I shake my head and take another sip of my drink. “I don’t think so. She despises being trapped. I know that. It was obvious from the start when she threw those pearls over the balcony of Club Triton.”
He frowns. “Wait, you met her before?”
I nod. “Before the meeting. She was angry as hell. Still is, and rightfully so. I stole her freedom away from her, and I gave her nothing in return, except a gilded prison.”
I take another sip, but the burn doesn’t compare to how painful her hostility will feel deep in my bones. When I first saw her, I was impressed by her brazenness and her sass. That look of malice in her eyes taunted me. Made me want to kiss her and take her with me.
But I never imagined our first kiss would be at the altar of my goddamn enemy, and that she would curse the ground I stand on, probably for the rest of her life.
I didn’t even know her name until I put that ring on her finger. But I took those goddamn vows, and I don’t take them lightly. She is my wife now, and I will make this work.
“Are you going to let her go, then?” Franco asks.
I look him dead in the eyes and say, “No. She stays. Even if she hates me, she’s my wife, until death do us part.” I slam my drink down on the table. “And someday, she will understand too.”
STELLA
I pick up the nearest vase and throw it at the wall, screaming out loud as the petals fall to the floor, but nothing drowns out the noises in my head. I pick up a lamp and chuck it at the wall too, shattering it into a million pieces. I don’t stop, not until everything has been torn asunder. I’m so goddamn angry, but nothing helps to rein in my rage.
I let this man barge into my life, steal me away, all under the guise of being safe from Lucio, while being transported to an actual prison of my own making. I should have known better than to trust this Mafia don. Now I’m locked up in this gilded room, staring at the glass pieces scattered all around me. God, what a mess my life has become.
I sink down to the floor as it suddenly becomes hard to breathe. My throat clamps up, my heart rate shoots up, and I clutch my waist to attempt to ground myself. It doesn’t work. My breathing comes in faster and faster, and nothing helps to control it.
“Oh God, no, not now. Please, not now,” I beg to myself.
But my body doesn’t listen to me. I lean forward and focus on the floor as everything begins to spin, while it literally feels like I’m dying inside.
I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.
My lungs suck in air, but it feels like the oxygen is escaping me. It’s a panic attack.
Come on, Stella, breathe slowly, you can do it.
I wobble back and forth on the floor.
This will pass, I tell myself. Just focus.
I breathe into my palms to stave off hyperventilation and think about my mother’s smile, which always makes me happy. After a few minutes, the panic attack finally subsides, and I stare at the mess I’ve made while tears slowly cascade down my cheeks. I feel terrible.
Suddenly, my lock turns and the door opens. I glance up at the maid’s face, who blankly stares ahead at the destruction I’ve caused.
“Oh dear,” she says. “What happened?”
“I … I …” I stutter.
“Good God.” She steps inside and closes the door behind her. “Let me clean all this up.”
She brushes some of the glass pieces together with a broom, but the judgmental look in her eyes makes me feel so damn guilty about what I’ve just done that I can only mutter, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
I crawl toward the glass and start picking it up by hand because I don’t want her to have to do all this extra work because of my anger toward Matteo.
“Oh no, ma’am, please don’t,” she says. “You don’t have to help me.”
“No, no,” I say, sniffing. “It’s fine. I made this mess. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.”
She tries to stop me. “Ma’am, please don’t. You could get a—”
I hiss as I retract my hand. One of the large shards left a giant cut in my palm.
“Oh no, I’ll go grab the first-aid kit. Be right back.” She drops the broom and rushes out the door, leaving it unlocked and wide open.
My heart rate shoots up again as I stare at the open door.
It’s the only way out of this prison. I have to try.
I immediately crawl to my feet and bolt out the door without thinking. But the second I turn left into the hallway, I bump straight into Matteo.