Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 311(@300wpm)
I give him a grateful smile and walk over to Derek, who pulls me into the empty refreshments room. This isn’t a conversation he wants to have in public.
“So Matteo’s dad is Lorenzo Lombardi?” he asks me, confirming what he already knows.
“Yeah, he is.”
Derek is quiet for a bit before he pulls out a piece of paper. “Save my number under something discreet. Sofia, maybe. Something he won’t ever think to delete. Then if you ever need out, if you ever aren’t safe, call me. I’ll get you and Matteo out of there.”
“Derek…”
“No, listen to me. I’m not accusing him of anything. He can be a wonderful partner and a wonderful father, but there may come a day when you decide you need out. I faked my death to get out of that life, and if you need me, I’ll get you out, too.”
If I were to meet the Derek that Enzo claims to know, the ruthless killer, I wonder if I would even recognize him. I don’t see a trace of that man here. I pull Derek into a hug, giving him a kiss on the cheek, before saying my goodbyes and heading back out to the car where Enzo has a sleeping Matteo strapped into his car seat.
“Can you do my a favor?” I ask him as I approach. He gives me a grunt, which I think is the best I’m going to get out of him right now. “Can this stay between us? I don’t think Derek wants it getting out that he’s not actually dead.”
“I don’t care what he wants.”
"No. But you care what I want."
Chapter Thirty- Emma
Matteo has a chicken nugget hanging out of his mouth and French fries all over his lap when we pull up to the house. I’m not going to deny him McDonald’s after the day we had, even if I despise the restaurant, but he didn’t get through half of his Happy Meal before he fell asleep. Enzo carries him into the house and his eyes barely open. Trusting that Enzo will be able to get him to bed, I head back into my own bedroom to continue packing up. Matteo getting hurt and then is going to the hospital has put us so far behind schedule that Enzo already pushed back our flight home. There was too much to do.
Throwing away my previous plans to have everything meticulously organized, I throw my things into boxes, making quick decisions about what’s coming with me and what isn’t. Half my belongings are on the floor, half in boxes. In the morning, I can deal with everything I don’t plan on taking. Maybe I’ll call the local charity shop and see if they want donations, but I don’t have the energy to care right now.
Something has me on edge. I can blame it on Matteo getting hurt, but that’s the obvious scapegoat. Truthfully, listening to Derek has me rattled. I know Enzo is dangerous, logically, but the only person who has told me point-blank is my father, and we aren’t exactly on the best of terms. It’s easy to forget who Enzo is when he’s being sweet towards me. Wooing me. I have to remind myself it’s only one part of the man.
I’m so lost in my own thoughts the sound of a throat clearing behind me causes me to jump, my hand flying to my chest as I whip my head around.
Enzo isn’t staring at me, but looking at the wide open bedside drawer. Perplexed, but what’s grabbed his attention. I glance inside the drawer myself, only to find my vibrator visible on top of the book I had been reading. I bit my lip as I go to push it shut. “Has that been my replacement for the last four years?”
A choked laugh escapes. “Your replacement?”
“Yes, my replacement darling. I didn’t expect you to go all these years without pleasure, but I must say I’m thrilled it came from book boyfriends and vibrators.”
My embarrassment quickly becomes annoyance at his words. I regret ever telling him I haven’t slept with anyone since him, especially when I doubt he’s held himself to the same standards. He doesn’t owe me that. He wasn’t waiting for me. I hate knowing how uneven things out between the two of us. He has so much experience while I can count on one hand the number of sexual encounters I’ve had and they begin and end with him.
Maybe I should have found more time to date as a single mother. Others do it. The idea of leaving Matteo with a babysitter is daunting, but married couples go on dates without their children. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel this inadequacy.
“That’s none of your business,” I hiss at him, half tempted to light the entire thing on fire. But I am enjoying the book. It would be a shame to lose my place.