Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
He pauses.
I storm around the table, closing the distance between us until I’m right in front of him.
His cologne hits me—dark, smoky, expensive, sinful—and it’s so unfair how familiar it feels.
I glare up at him, trembling. “Tell me the truth. Why are you doing this?”
His eyes soften for a fraction of a second, like a dying star flickering before the explosion. Then the softness is gone. He leans down, lips brushing the shell of my ear.
“You left me,” he whispers. “So now I’m going to show you what that feels like.”
He pulls back.
“And, Little Bird?” His smile slices into me like a blade. “I’m just getting started.”
He walks out of the dining room without another word. The door shuts behind him, and the world that I thought couldn’t possibly fall apart any further . . . collapses completely.
29
Lorenzo
Three . . .
Two . . .
One . . .
“Lorenzo?” She says it so quietly I almost don’t hear her. “I’ll marry you.”
As I suspected, the moment I walked out of the room, she followed me, and I’m happy to be right.
This is exactly where I want her. Not broken. Not hysterical. Not begging. Just resigned to her new future.
But I’m fully aware she’s not finished with me yet. Here it comes . . .
“With conditions.”
My lips twitch. “Conditions?”
She nods once, chin trembling even as she tries to hold it high. “No intimacy. You won’t touch me. You won’t try to own me. And you won’t—”
I laugh.
It’s not polite, nor is it light. It’s also clearly not amused.
Instead, my laugh comes out like a man who’s spent years sharpening the edges of a blade and just cut himself open with it. Clearly there is something very wrong with me.
Unhinged would be a good word to use.
I am unhinged.
And I love it.
This feeling.
Her hatred.
It’s all the aphrodisiac I need.
Her eyes flash. “What is so funny?”
I drag my thumb across the corner of my mouth, trying to tame the grin. “Little Bird . . . you’re adorable. You think you’re negotiating.”
Her shoulders stiffen. “If you want me, those are the terms.”
“If?” I echo, stepping closer. “That’s cute too.”
She swallows, throat bobbing. “You said you wanted me. I’m giving you parameters.”
“Parameters.” The word rolls off my tongue like a joke. Only the punchline will come later, when she least expects it.
I let the silence stretch, savoring the panic building behind her wide eyes.
Finally, I shrug, casual as sin. “Fine.”
She blinks. “Fine?”
“Fine,” I repeat, smirking. “I’ll agree to your little list.”
The relief that floods her face nearly makes me laugh again. She’s still so sweet and innocent. Her relief is comical. It’s also delusional.
But what she doesn’t realize is that none of her conditions matter. Not a single one. The moment she said yes? The moment her parents sold her future for a bailout, her rules would never matter.
I turn toward the door. “Lovely chat. I’ll go finish arranging your new cage.”
She stiffens. “Lorenzo, I’m serious.”
“So am I.” I glance back at her over my shoulder. “Always.”
I don’t give her time to push. I don’t give myself time to feel. Instead, I head toward the front of the house to leave.
I pull out my phone and call the one person who’s been there for me since my life changed.
Matteo answers with a tired growl. “You better not be calling to say you’ve murdered someone. Again.”
I stare toward the doors. “Relax. If someone dies, I’ll send you a postcard.”
He sighs so loudly it rattles the speaker. “What the hell are you up to, Lorenzo?”
A slow smile cuts across my face. “I’m taking a short sabbatical.”
“A short sabbatical? What do you think, this is a nine-to-five where you punch out and get lunch breaks?”
“I need a little time to handle something.”
“Elaborate.”
“No can do, Cuz.”
“And you expect me to be okay with that answer?”
“I do, because you love me,” I tease.
“Are you in trouble?”
I smirk to myself. “Define trouble.”
“Fuck, Lorenzo. That is not the answer I want.” He sounds pissed, but he’ll get over it. That is as long as he never finds out the truth.
“I’m fine. Just a personal matter I want to deal with. Don’t worry, no one will die.”
He exhales. “Do you need help?”
“You know me, I never do.”
“Which is why I’m worried.”
“You need a life, Matteo. Then you might get out of mine.” I laugh.
“Go to hell,” he taunts back, but I know he’s not pissed.
“I’ll send you a postcard from there, too.” I hang up before he can say anything else.
I step outside. Evening has fallen across the sky. I scroll to another number. Rafe picks up before the first ring even finishes.
“Well, well. How are the future in-laws? Are they welcoming their favorite harbinger of doom into the family with open arms?”
“Like I give a fuck,” I retort.
“What’s the problem tonight?” he asks.
“The usual. I need you to find me a priest.”