Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 71131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Fuck.
I get up and say goodbye to everyone, then follow them out of the secret room and down the hall, up the stairs to another huge master bedroom.
Am I posted at the door?
Am I inside?
Where am I? I don’t know how to navigate this or what the hell I’m doing, so I wait for King to say something.
And when he finally does open his mouth, once I’m inside the room and the door’s closed, he says, “Wait outside, let nobody in.”
“Of course.” I start to open the door when his hand comes down on my shoulder. “None of them. Not even to bring us a drink of water.”
“You trust nobody.” I hate admitting it out loud.
His sigh holds the weight of the world. “If my dad was awake—not even him.”
Shit. Not where I thought his head was at, but I respect him even more as I nod my understanding and shut the bedroom door, knowing full well I’m going to hear them.
And I’ll have no choice but to stand by the door while he takes more and more pieces of her heart away from me.
While I silently let him.
Powerless, I stand there until the lights go off, and then I suck in a deep breath and wait for her to scream his name, imagining that maybe, just maybe, she’s yelling his, but thinking of mine.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“For it is better that we slay a coward than through a coward be all slain.” —The Legends of King Arthur and His Knights’
Del
The lights are off. Air, I swear, is getting trapped in my lungs as I try to suck more and more in, laying there, wishing I wasn’t so helpless, wishing I could do something to make King happy again. Days ago, the biggest problem we had was that I was falling apart over the fact that I loved someone else, and now all I can see is this man next to me, this broken man being forced to rise up.
Is he ready?
Are any of us?
I make a mental note to contact my uncle. I know he’ll be at the commission, and I wouldn’t put it past him to try something, but my heart tells me, as corrupt as he is, he’s been given everything.
Money.
Notoriety.
And a position within the Families, a firm position, so he would never hurt the actual Capo—most people really wouldn’t, they’re too petrified, and on top of that, just because you off a Campisi means jack shit, you’d have to kill the entire line in order to possibly even become the Capo, and there are so many people in line for it, my uncle would have to kill everyone.
He’s too much of a chicken to even try that.
I sigh.
King’s arm lands across my stomach out of the blue as he flops onto his own stomach and turns toward me, his head pressed against the pillow. “Want to run away together?”
I smile; there he is. “That depends. Do we have to take Maksim since you guys are like a package deal?”
He laughs. “Yeah, Izzy would kill us. Then again, she has been wanting to travel.” He flips onto his back. “I don’t know what to do.”
I scoot closer to him, my black shorts ride up and my cami presses tight against my breasts. “Well, you could sit here and stress about it or actually sleep and wake up well-rested, don’t borrow tomorrow’s problems for today.”
“So wise.” He starts playing with the strap of my shirt.
My entire body feels like a live wire with each snap of the strap. “You know, we have four more days left.”
“Yeah, of the most perfect honeymoon in the history of honeymoons?” His laugh is sad. “I’m sorry I couldn’t give you everything you deserved.”
I frown and sit up. “What the hell are you talking about?”
He sits up with me, his hands reach for my wrists, sliding down to my hands. “I’m just saying I’m sorry I couldn’t give you weeks at the castle you deserve, shit even your own home and not my parents’. I just, I didn’t have time. All I have is the knowledge that I need to be here.”
I raise my right hand, cupping his cheek. “Where else would you be?”
“With you? On a honeymoon? Or better yet, at the house I built for you…”
I gasp. Completely shocked. “What?”
“Oh, yeah, so…” I’ve never seen him look embarrassed, but he looks like he’s about to hide under the bed. “So, I may have… built you a house.” He gulps.
I smack him with a pillow on the side of the head, sending him sailing toward the bottom of the bed and nearly off of it. “What the hell was that for? I tell you I built you a house, and you hit me?”
I hit him again and again while he curses, then I drop the pillow onto his face and smash it closer while straddling him. “You don’t just lead with, oh PS, I built you a house!”