Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 110824 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110824 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
“Absolutely not,” Victor barks.
“Huh?” I squeak, blinking at the vehemence behind his words. I mean, I don’t really want to date, but why is Victor so against it? Does he see me as weak—so weak that dating will make me fall apart?
“You are not going out with Caleb Southwood,” he practically growls.
I blink slowly as I look at him.
“Um… I don’t remember telling you Caleb’s last name,” I whisper, my throat feeling constricted.
“You didn’t. I saw him flag you down outside when I picked you up at work a few weeks ago. So, I looked into him.”
“You looked into him?” I repeat, feeling—and probably looking—like my eyes are going to pop out of my head.
Victor gives me a cocky smile. It was the type of grin that I’m sure made the panties of all the women within a five-mile radius of him melt. I can say that because mine definitely did. He’s the only man I’ve ever wanted as a woman. Since my attack, that part of me died except when it comes to him.
It’s just another reason I didn’t fight my engagement to Dante more. He had no interest in me physically. The few times he held my hand or put his arm around me happened in public. In private, we barely spoke. I didn’t feel as if I was in danger with him—which is ironic since he turned out to be a murderer. Victor, however, makes me feel like no one else ever has. I’m almost a whole person when I’m around him—at least when it comes to feeling alive. When Victor touches me, I forget that I’m broken. I breathe easier and I even feel… happy.
It's all very confusing.
He surprises me further by capturing some of my hair and pulling it back behind my ear. His hand grazes over my scar, but his face doesn’t even change. That’s something else that is different with Victor. It’s like he doesn’t even see my scar when he looks at me. I don’t get the looks of pity or revulsion that I do from so many. He almost makes me forget it’s even there.
“If you think I’m letting anyone get close to you that I haven’t vetted, you’re wrong, Kitten. It’s my job to protect you.”
His words begin to make me feel warm all over. That is, until that one-word registers in my brain. Job.
“Yeah,” I mumble, pulling away. I unbuckle my seatbelt and get out of the car before Victor has a chance to move. In fact, I’m on my doorstep, searching for my keys, by the time he makes it to me.
“Hey,” he murmurs, putting his hand on my hip and using his hold to pull me around to face him. “What’s going on, Gia?”
My heart squeezes when he uses the name he made for me—a name no one used before him. I love it. It makes me feel beautiful. I get Ang, Angie, Angel, all the time, but until Victor, no one has called me Gia. I don’t think I’ve ever heard it before, period. I don’t know why he calls me that, but it makes me feel like someone else. Someone less broken. “Nothing,” I respond quietly, avoiding his eyes. I turn back to the door and finally figure out the right key to unlock the dang door.
“Why don’t I believe you?” Victor asks the question while closing the door and leaning against it.
After sparing him a glance, I turn away, kick off my shoes, and walk toward the kitchen. “Do you still want chicken alfredo?”
“Whatever you want to fix, sweetheart. If you don’t feel like cooking, we can order takeout.”
“That’s a waste of money. It doesn’t take me long to fix food.”
“I don’t think a to go order of Chinese or a pizza will break me.”
“Fine, order a pizza. I’m going to take a shower,” I grumble, still unable to look at him.
I move to exit the room, giving him a wide berth while simultaneously trying to ignore how good he smells. I almost make my escape—knowing the time to collect myself is definitely needed. I’m near the hall that leads to my bathroom when Victor catches me and wraps his hand around my wrist.
“Talk to me, Kitten. Why are you upset with me?”
“I’m not.”
“You’re lying. Don’t lie to me.”
I force myself to look into his eyes. It’s not easy, because they are deep, dark pools of liquid that make me thirsty for more of him. I try to keep my cool around Victor because I know I’m not in his league—I’ve never been in his league. What’s worse, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am a responsibility to him. I don’t know why he thinks he needs to be responsible for me. Maybe it is because of Emmie, I don’t know. What I do know is that right now, I’m on the verge of a panic attack and I need to get into a room by myself. What’s worse is, I don’t even have a reason for being like this. I know down to my soul that Victor would die before he’d hurt me. It’s just that he is hurting me by just being his amazing self—a man I can never have.