Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
“They didn’t treat you well,” he says and his gentle tone surprises me. “I’m sorry for that, Florence.” He brushes my hair back, brows furrowing as he looks into my eyes, causing my breath to hitch in my chest. For some reason, I believe him. He really is sorry I was treated like shit by the Russos.
“Thank you,” I say. “No one has ever said that before.”
“That’s a shame,” he goes on. “Humans have feared what they don’t understand for as long as they’ve been on this earth.”
“You’ve seen a lot.”
“I have, over the last seven centuries, give or take fifty years.”
“Man, you’re old.”
He laughs, and it’s genuine, bringing a light to his dark blue eyes. “At least I don’t feel my age.”
“How old were you when you were turned?” I ask, unable to pin an exact age down. A twenty-five-year-old from the 1300s probably looks older than a twenty-five-year-old today.
“I think I was close to twenty-eight.”
“You think?”
“The end of my human life was complicated,” he starts. “And most of it has been removed from my memory.”
“Oh,” I reply, not expecting that. “I almost forget all vampires were human before they turned.”
“Nearly all humans seem to forget that. Most, willingly.”
My head slowly bobs up and down, eyes locked on his. “It’s hard to see someone as a monster when we can relate. I don’t think it’s a stretch to assume a big majority of vampires were victims in some way.”
“You aren’t wrong, though, once turned, I’ve only met a small handful of vampires who wished they weren’t.” He holds my gaze steady but a tiny bit of emotion crosses his face.
“Were you glad you were turned?”
“The plague was in full force at the time. I got sick. So yes, I am glad I was turned.”
“It’s so weird to think you were alive in the 1300s.” I slowly shake my head back and forth. “You’ve seen so much.”
“A lot of good. A lot of bad.”
“How do you not get bored?”
“Who says I don’t?” He flashes a coy smile that sends a chill through me. “I find ways to stay entertained.” His head falls slightly to the side as he looks deep into my eyes for another moment. Then he takes my hand and pulls me to him. “Well, Mrs. Malus, we do need to get going.”
I swallow and nod, all too aware that he’s still holding my hand as we walk down the hall. It’s all so confusing. He’s treating me well but hasn’t pushed for any sort of intimacy. I’m supposed to pump out babies so they can continue the family line yet Devon seems like an actual decent human being.
And I’m being spoiled like crazy. But a golden cage is still a cage.
“Where are we going?” I ask as Xavier opens the passenger door of a white Aston Martin for me.
“Dinner,” he says and then speeds around, moving to the other side of the car in just a second.
“You don’t eat.” The seat belt clicks into place.
“You do.” The engine revs to life. “I can’t speak from personal experience, but the Maple Leaf is supposed to be very good.”
“Ohh,” I say, unable to help myself. The Maple Leaf is a swanky restaurant in downtown Charlotte. I’ve heard of it but have never been there. It’s ridiculously expensive with a dress code and was something that was just not realistic for a hunter. “Are you, uh, gonna eat?”
He looks at me as he backs the car out of the garage. “I already did.”
I just nod, somehow knowing that drinking blood out of fancy glass cups isn’t Xavier’s style.
“Your heart is beating fast,” Xavier says after we’ve been driving for several minutes.
“I’m your prisoner.”
“You’re my wife.”
“How is that any different? I can’t leave.”
“Do you want to leave?”
I open my mouth to say yes, but nothing comes out. “Of course,” I force myself to say.
“Where would you like to go?”
“Away from you.” This time, there is no hesitating.
“What would you do?” he goes on, tone calm.
“Start a new life. Probably go back to Italy. See if I can find my family.” I can feel the flutter of anxiety in my chest as I speak and I know he heard my heart skipping a beat.
“And then what?”
I turn my head, narrowing my eyes. “You find this entertaining?”
“A bit,” he admits. “As you said, I’ve seen a lot. And that includes a lot of failed plans. Humans think short-term, probably because your lives are so short.”
“Short compared to your life, but trust me, the days feel fucking long.” I push my shoulders back and let out a breath as I watch the scenery go by. We’re driving really fucking fast. Safety isn’t as much of a concern when you heal in just seconds, I suppose. “And I do have a plan.”
“Yeah?”
"Voglio lavorare in un bar e guadagnare abbastanza per vivere.”