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)
Instead, my mind drifts, unwanted again back to her . . .
Back to the way she looked when she almost kissed me.
Cyrus’s voice cuts through the fog. “You’re distracted.”
I glance at him.
His eyes are unreadable, but his tone is casual, almost kind. “Try not to be,” he adds. “Distraction gets men killed.”
Matteo calls from the table, waving a card. “Lorenzo. Get over here before I take all your money out of spite.”
I force my mouth into a smirk and walk over, sliding into a seat with the weight of my mood dragging behind me.
The poker game starts.
Chips and cards are handed out, and the scotch flows.
Matteo needles everyone within reach, and for a while, I almost forget the storm in my head.
Almost.
But between hands, and between the laughter and the banter . . . my mind returns to Victoria.
The dealer slides me a hand, and I glance at my cards.
Five three off suit.
Of course.
Across the table, Matteo grins like he can smell a win. “You look happier. That’s terrifying.”
I fold. “I’m not happy.”
“You’re something,” he counters, taking a sip of scotch. “I just can’t tell if it’s homicidal or something else.”
My jaw tightens. It’s something else all right. The need to get home and see my wife.
Matteo’s grin widens. “Now that’s an interesting reaction.”
I lean back, spinning a chip between my fingers. “Play your cards, cousin.”
Matteo’s eyes narrow, amused and suspicious in equal measure. “One day you’re going to tell me what’s going on with you.”
“One day,” I agree, voice smooth.
Matteo lifts his glass. “Liar.”
I clink mine against his. “Idiot.”
The game continues, yet my brain won’t shut up.
My fingers tighten around the chip until it bites my skin.
I don’t like caring.
I don’t like the way it makes me hesitate.
I don’t like that she still has the power to make my choices feel like they matter.
Across the table, Matteo laughs at something Cyrus says.
I force my attention back to the game.
But the thought of her doesn’t die.
When the hand is over, new cards are dealt.
And this one doesn’t suck.
I push a stack of chips forward, eyes fixed on the center of the table. “All in.”
And somehow, those words feel like I’m talking about something else.
Someone else.
50
Victoria
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, and my bare feet hit the cold floor, making a chill run up my spine.
Socks would be nice right now. Where did they go? I could have sworn I fell asleep in them . . .
As I start to search the bed, a knock sounds against the wooden door.
It’s not him.
That much I know for sure.
The knock is too soft. It’s almost polite. Probably a staff member, most likely female.
My suspicions are proven correct as I cross the room, pull the door open, and see Marta, one of the maids, staring at me.
Her gaze flicks over my face, searching, then she offers a slight nod toward the hallway.
“You’re needed downstairs.” Her fingers twist the edge of her apron.
My throat tightens. “Needed by who?” It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who is beckoning me, but I still ask.
Marta’s lips transform into a straight line, and her eyes dart left toward the staircase.
“By . . . him,” she breathes, and her words hang heavy in the air.
“I’ll be right down. I need to freshen up.”
She bows her head in understanding before stepping back.
With that done, I head into the bathroom and go about making myself presentable. Using the toilet and then brushing my teeth. After I’m decent, I step out into the hallway and head to where he is.
For some reason, the staircase feels longer today, and don’t even get me started on the stairs.
Time seems to stand still as I move, and my heart beats so fast, I fear it might explode.
Once downstairs, the foyer is dim, and it takes a second for my eyes to adjust, but then I see him.
Lorenzo stands by the front doors. Ominous as always, but he’s not alone. His dumb friend Rafe is with him.
Rafe stands with his shoulder against the wall, eyes tracking everything with a bored look. Typical.
On the other side of the foyer is Nico. He’s probably the only guard who’s done anything remotely nice for me. So at least his presence doesn’t piss me off even more.
Lorenzo’s gaze snaps to mine the second I step off the last stair. It’s like his body is wired to my existence.
His eyes drag down my body, starting at my feet, then up my sweatpants, until they lift back to my face.
“You look comfy.” He adjusts his cuff, like we’re discussing the weather.
I stop at the edge of the foyer, letting my spine go straight. “I look like I just woke up, which I did.”
Rafe’s mouth twitches. He wants to smile so badly, but probably doesn’t because his friend might kill him. Nico’s expression stays neutral, but his gaze flicks to Lorenzo.