Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72973 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 365(@200wpm)___ 292(@250wpm)___ 243(@300wpm)
Jesus, that’s a lot of money. It will last me a lifetime and then some.
Wondering what could cost so much, I continue working while being extra careful not to cross paths with Dario again for the rest of the night.
Chapter 17
Dario
Eden and I have been dating for two weeks, and I’m starting to lose my patience because I don’t get to see her as often as I’d like.
I’ve convinced her to spend the night at my place, and as I park the R8 in my designated spot, I can feel she’s a little nervous.
The opening show is on Wednesday, and it will run straight through next weekend, which means I won’t get to see Eden much with our conflicting schedules.
I grab her overnight bag from where it’s lying by her feet and say, “Let’s head up.”
Climbing out of the car, I wait for Eden, and taking her hand, I lead her to the elevator.
“You don’t live far from the ballet company,” she mentions.
The elevator doors open, and we step inside. I scan my keycard for the top floor, then glance at her.
“Thank you for agreeing to spend the night with me.”
She leans into my side and smiles up at me. “You’re welcome.”
When the doors open, Bella barks and comes barreling toward us.
“Oh my God!” Eden exclaims as she rips her hand from mine. She crouches in front of Bella. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”
“Her name is Bella,” I say as I walk toward the living room.
Eden pets Bella’s head before she straightens up and glances around my apartment. The smile drops from her face, and her lips part with shock.
“Holy shit,” she whispers, her eyes wide as saucers.
She remains rooted to the spot by the elevators, her features drawn tight as she takes in the art on the walls, the expensive furniture, and the wide-open space.
Tension starts to build in the air, then she suddenly lets out a burst of laughter.
“Jesus, I’m too scared to move. I don’t want to get dirt on the floor from my boots.”
She brushes a shaky hand through her hair, and knowing she’s completely overwhelmed by my wealth, I walk to her and take hold of her hand. I pull her to the living room and tug her down on the couch next to me.
She’s still nervous as fuck as she says, “You have a stunning place. It’s…it’s.”
“You’re home,” Esmerelda suddenly says as she appears from the direction of the kitchen.
Eden shoots to her feet. “Hi.”
Esmerelda knows about Eden spending the night, so she doesn’t look surprised as she says, “Hi. I’m Dario’s housekeeper, Esmerelda. Please let me know if I can get you anything.”
“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am. Thank you. I’m okay. Thank you.”
I grab her hand again and tug her down on the couch.
“You can go, Esmerelda. See you tomorrow.”
Eden watches my housekeeper leave, then she glances around the apartment before she says, “I knew you had money, but this is insane. It really puts shit into perspective.”
I keep my tone soft as I ask, “What shit?”
Eden waves a hand over the TV that covers half the wall and the leather couches.
She stands up again and walks to a life-size marble statue of a ballerina. It’s a recently acquired piece, and I’m having two more made to put on either side of the elevator doors.
She almost touches the statue but shoves her hand behind her as if she’s scared she might break it accidentally.
Turning her head, her eyes only meet mine for a second before she glances away again.
“We live in completely different worlds.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I assure her. “At least not to me.”
Eden walks to where Balla is lying on one of the other couches and avoids me by giving my dog attention.
“Eden,” I murmur.
“Yeah?”
“Look at me.”
She keeps brushing her hand over Bella while she glances at me.
“It doesn’t matter to me,” I say again.
She stares at me for a moment, then admits, “It matters to me.”
Letting out a mixture between a scoff and a chuckle, she looks at Bella again.
“You’re this perfect guy who has this perfect life, and I’m–” She shakes her head, and it makes worry creep into my heart.
“I’m far from perfect.”
I’m a fucking mafia boss who has killed and who will kill again. If anything, Eden is too good for me.
She lifts her head again, and when she meets my eyes, she asks, “Why me?”
I get up, and closing the distance between us, I pull her off the couch and against my chest. I lock my arms around her and wait until she tilts her head back to look at me.
It might be way too soon, but it doesn’t stop me from saying, “I’m starting to fall in love with you because you’re a fighter who dances like an angel. You might not have much, but you’ve worked hard to carve out a little space for yourself in this world. You could’ve given in to your circumstances, but you’re working your ass off to rise above it. That shit takes so much fucking courage and determination, and it demands my respect.”