Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Before I entered the kitchen, I turned to the patio. It’d been raining all day, so the party would be held inside, probably in the living room with all the furniture pushed up against the walls. But under the awning, I saw them together.
Isabella and Edric.
They were a solid three feet apart, and her arms were crossed over her chest, but the looks on both of their faces made it clear their conversation was serious. Whatever they spoke about was as grave as death, judging from the paleness of their faces, the hardness in their gazes.
I shouldn’t spy on their conversation, but I couldn’t pull my gaze away. My heart was beating hard in a way it never had before. It pounded with dread and anxiety—and I never had anxiety. Antonio’s words came back to me, an accusation so lethal to my heart I couldn’t even entertain it, and I pushed it away.
I always worked the morning shift at Rosticceria Da Cristina. Prepared everything for the day so the day crew could come in and run the store while I went home and took a nap. Otherwise, I’d be asleep before eight. I got there early, usually before five, so the dough had adequate time to rest.
I’d just finished putting everything in the glass cases when the day crew arrived to run the show. I made small talk with the guys before I left my apron in the break room and headed out.
The second I stepped out the door and turned into the alleyway, I ran straight into Edric. “What are you doing here?” He worked the other location because it was easier having a set of eyes on each place. My sister Beatrice wasn’t quite old enough to be working the way we were.
He started to walk with me back in the direction he’d just come. “Wanted to run something by you.”
“Yeah? What’s up?” I continued up the slight incline until we made it to the road. Tourists were already out discovering the town because it was almost noon. I saw a group of them head for the restaurant to order fresh arancini and make a bunch of videos about it for social media. It didn’t annoy me when people pulled out their phones when they ordered. Free marketing, right?
“Let’s go to your apartment.”
“Why can’t we just talk here?” I asked.
“Because.” That was all he said. “Come on, let’s go.”
My heart started to pound again. That sickening anxiety that I still wasn’t quite familiar with hit me hard. Dread was a sensation I wasn’t all that familiar with either, and now it hit me like a ton of bricks. “This is about Isabella.”
His gaze shifted away to break the contact between our eyes.
That was my confirmation, because my brother was an arrogant son of a bitch who didn’t have an ounce of humility within him—but he looked downright ashamed. “Come on.” This time, he took the lead, forcing me to follow him, down several side streets and for minutes of painful silence.
I felt like I was going to black out from the anticipation.
What the fuck was he about to say?
She wouldn’t hurt me. She wouldn’t lie to me.
She would never betray me.
I couldn’t even remember taking the stairs to my upstairs apartment. Couldn’t remember getting the key in the door. Everything that took place in the last five minutes was immediately scrubbed from my memory.
I stepped into the place that was home, but now it felt like a prisoner’s cell.
I moved to one of the couches but didn’t take a seat. I turned to my brother and waited for him not to say what I was terrified he might say.
He slid his hands into his pockets and released a painful sigh. “Look, I wasn’t gonna say anything, but it’s fucking eating me and . . .”
I couldn’t fucking believe it. It was like he punched me in the throat with a fucking hammer. “Just say it.” My voice came out so calm, it sounded like someone else had said the words. Because I wasn’t the least bit calm.
“It’s a long story . . .”
I stared him down and waited for him to get on with it. Waited for him to destroy my goddamn world. To take that hammer he’d put to my throat and use it to shatter my heart. “Just get on with it, Edric. Otherwise, it’s gonna be even longer before this shit conversation is over.” I didn’t have a clue how I sounded so calm and rational—when I felt nothing of the sort.
“All right, all right.” He slid his hands into his pockets. “A couple weeks ago, I ran into Isabella in town . . . and I kissed her. I’d been drinking a lot, and I’m not sure what came over me. She thought I was you . . . so she went for it.”