Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 97656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
I laugh, the sound rumbling out of me before I can stop it. I know instantly what the call is about and I’m not surprised. The men are too afraid to ask me directly why I married the ex-boss’s wife so quickly. They value their lives, but the women… they’re braver. There is no consequence to their curiosity. Or maybe their husbands, eager for details, sent them under the guise of gossip.
Why are you laughing?” she asks.
“None of the men dare ask me why I married the ex-boss’s wife so quickly,” I say, shrugging one shoulder. “So I suspect that maybe they would have sent their wives to ask you.”
She gives a small, tired smile, the kind that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “
I tilt my head, studying her. “Is it Annie?”
She looks surprised, then nods.
I smile in understanding. Annie’s harmless enough. A persistent, chatty type who thinks she can charm her way into anyone’s secrets. She’s not cruel, just relentlessly curious.
The phone rings once again, shrill and refusing to be ignored. She groans, but I can see the resignation settling over her shoulders. She realizes she has to pick it up, and reaches for the phone reluctantly.
I pretend to eat, but really I’m watching her the whole time. She speaks in that guarded, cool tone she wears like armor around everyone. I study the slight tension in her jaw, the way her free hand curls into a loose fist on the counter. She’s still protecting herself from the outside world.
I keep eating, eyes on her the whole time, feeling that quiet, possessive warmth spread through my chest again. She’s mine. And no phone call, no gossiping wife, no bruise on her arm is going to change that.
Not tonight.
Not ever.
Chapter Forty-Two
VIOLA
The last thing I want is anyone interrupting my time with him.
I feel as if we’re in our own little bubble. A kitchen fragrant with the smell of good food, smooth wine on my tongue, and the heat from his body. For once, the world outside feels far away. But of course, the phone has to ring and interrupt us.
I listen to Annie’s enthusiastic, breathless voice burst through the speaker. “Oh my God, Viola. I’m so glad I got you. How are you doing?”
“I’m okay,” I reply.
“Okay,” she squawks. “Oh, my God, Viola. Have you not heard the rumors?”
“What rumors?” I ask patiently.
“I uh… Everyone is saying you got married to the new Capo! I mean… It’s not true, is it? I told those gossipers no way. I mean, that would be a bit strange, wouldn’t it? And so soon after ... well…”
Her voice starts trailing off as she realizes the rumors are indeed correct.
I don’t want to engage in pointless pleasantries. I just want the call to end. It’s clear now that everyone has sent Annie to find out what the hell is going on. They’re using her as their scout because she’s the only one bold enough to call. I slip straight back into my old stoic demeanor, the cool mask sliding on like it never left. “It’s true,” I reply flatly. “It just happened. You know how things are.”
She goes quiet for several moments. “Why?”
“Why not?” I counter, irritation sharpening my tone before I can stop it. I’m surprised by my own reaction, the snap in my voice, the way my fingers tighten around the phone. Out of the corner of my eye I catch Ricci’s eye, and he winks at me.
“Oh! Well, anyway… I want to invite you for brunch. The committee of the Children’s Hospital Charity Gala at the Waldorf is gathering as usual to discuss our ideas for the event, and we’d love it if you could join us this year.”
I remember being invited the first year I was married to Salvatore. It was the obligatory invitation extended to the new wife, but I refused. I was polite, but I made it clear I wasn’t interested in being part of their circle of endless lunches and committee meetings. After that, they never asked again. I liked it that way. It kept me separate. Safe. Protected from their prying eyes and their venomous gossip. I was the cold wife who stayed in the background. They preferred it. I preferred it.
But now the invitation is back, wrapped in Annie’s cheerful voice, and I know exactly why. Everyone wants the story. Everyone wants to know how the widow ended up married to the new Capo so fast.
I can almost picture them — the wives clustered together in some elegant sitting room, designer handbags in tow, whispering furiously, dying to know every salacious detail of how I ended up with Ricci. The thought makes my stomach turn, and my first instinct is to reject it outright. The word “no” is already automatically forming on my tongue, the same way I’ve turned down every other olive branch over the years. But then I remember my sister’s words at my wedding. If I don’t put out my side of the story, the whispers will keep flying around behind my back. If I say no now and shut them out completely, it will only make them speculate even more. The rumors will grow teeth. People will start inventing their own stories, and those stories could hurt my sister’s chance of finding a suitable husband.