Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79833 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
It’s four o’clock when the beep of the alarm finally sounds.
A gush of air leaves my lips.
Please God, let it be him.
A key scrapes in the lock. The door opens and closes softly.
Silence.
The floorboards creak in the hallway, the sound moving closer to the light. A shadow falls over the threshold, bleeding through the open door, and a second later, Saverio looms in the door frame, looking larger than life itself.
My relief is so great a silent sob catches in my throat. The stress that’s been mounting for two hours crashes down on me, making me weak. I want to hit his chest with my fists and scream at him, but I remain perfectly calm as I study him for injuries.
He’s dressed in sweatpants and a black hoodie. His feet are bare. His hair is tussled, but otherwise, he looks as he does every other day. Strong. Untouchable.
At the sight of me, his pale eyes flare. The blue is like crystal that catches the light. No, they’re like the infinite depth of the turquoise sea that swallows all the light and reflects it from within.
“Why are you up?” A worry line divides his pinched eyebrows. “You should be in bed.”
I take a deep breath to keep my voice even. “Where have you been?”
His mouth pulls up in one corner. “Is this the kind of marriage we’re going to have? Every time I come home late, you’re going to ask where I’ve been?”
“Did Rachele know where you were?”
His mask drops in place. “She didn’t ask.” He advances to the desk. “She knew better than that.”
“I was worried sick about you. I thought that maybe—” I can’t even say it. “That maybe you won’t come home.”
“Anya,” he says softly, coming around the desk and turning the chair so that I face him before cupping my cheeks between his large hands. “You shouldn’t think like that.”
His warmth sinks into my skin, but the ice around my heart refuses to melt. “Then tell me where you’ve been.”
He purses his lips as a look of frustration comes over his features.
“If you woke up in the early morning hours and found my place next to you in bed empty, would you worry?” I ask.
He opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him short.
“We both know the answer to that. You’d barge into the kitchen with a gun in your hands.”
“It’s not the same,” he says in a gruff voice. “I can take care of myself.”
“If you waited for me from two in the morning, not knowing where I was or what I was doing, how would you feel?”
A spectrum of emotions runs through his eyes, going from panicked to flat-out murderous.
“I guess you’ll never know how it feels because you won’t allow that, will you, Saverio?”
A muscle ticks in his jaw as he only watches me.
“Thought so,” I say.
He lets me go with a sound of agitation, hesitating as he stares at me. A battle rages in his eyes, but then he mumbles a curse and says, “I’ve been to see Kearney.”
My palms turn clammy. “What happened?”
“Things went south.” He holds my gaze for a moment longer. “Giorgio killed him.”
Dear God, no.
I slam a hand over my mouth, pushing back the sound that wants to escape.
“It took time to clean things up,” he continues.
“Saverio.” It hurts to speak through the knot in my throat. “You promised me.”
“I didn’t see Giorgio coming.”
“Fuck,” I say, wiping a trembling hand over my brow. “He’s dead because of me.”
Saverio takes my hand and pulls it away from my face. “No.” His voice is harsh. “You will not think like that.”
“It’s true though. Look me in the eyes and tell me it isn’t.”
The set of his mouth turns hard, but at least he doesn’t lie to me.
Fresh tears burn at the back of my eyes. “How am I supposed to live with myself?”
Saverio rubs his thumb over the back of my hand. “If he was an honorable man, this wouldn’t have been his fate.”
“Don’t patronize me.” I pull free from his grasp. “Unlike you, I don’t pretend to be God. It’s not our job to judge and to execute. Besides, you shouldn’t throw stones when you live in a glass house.”
“Fine,” he says, his nostrils flaring. “Killing him wasn’t the plan, but it happened. That’s the kind of business I’m in. Guilt comes with the job. I’d much rather carry that burden for you.”
“It’s mine to carry now.” I study him with a solemn gaze. “That’s what a life with you means.”
“You don’t have to,” he says in a beseeching way, his infinite-blue gaze pleading with me.
Maybe that’s why Rachele didn’t ask. Maybe she’s wiser than me, but I can’t turn a blind eye.
“Don’t ask me to be ignorant.” I shake my head. “I can’t do that.”
He doesn’t seem pleased, but he relents with a tight nod, accepting my boundaries.