Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 89232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89232 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 446(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Tough luck.
I’m still marrying her tomorrow. Her beautiful face paled when I told her I own her material life. The betrayal and humiliation that passed through her eyes did something to me. I must have a heart left somewhere in the rotten cavity of my chest because I didn’t like that look on her. I wasn’t going to give her flowers, a dress, or a reception for her family, but I changed my mind. In my own way, I’m offering her a consolation. The fact that I don’t do consolations says how huge this sacrifice is. Granting her family this courtesy takes more than its pound of flesh from me.
I’ll do it for her. I’ll do it to make up for all the birthdays I’m yet to ruin. There’s no turning back from how we started out, no undoing what’s been done. She can never look at the eleventh of January in a happy way, but if given another chance, I’d do it again. If that’s the price to be with her, so be it. We’ll find a way of getting over it. We’ll live around that day. There are more than enough other days in the year. We’ll make those count. In time, she’ll come to appreciate her new home.
When I leave the villa, I drive to the Home Affairs office and book an appointment for a marriage license. The money I pay under the table gets us in the front of the queue. I already have all the documentation I need. Then I book a restaurant on the beach and order flowers.
Whether her family joins us for lunch is up to them. Whatever the case, for this day and this day only, I’ll tolerate them. I’ll make this sacrifice for Sabella even though facing her brother, the man who killed my family, without slitting his throat will take every ounce of self-control I possess.
The only knowledge that pacifies me is that they’ll be facing the same. I made a deal with Ryan after what happened. We both stick to the rules. As long as no one steps out of line, no more bloodshed between our families will be necessary. I suppose we can pretend to be decent human beings for a single afternoon. For Sabella’s sake.
When everything is in place, I drive to an upmarket wedding boutique and do what I promised myself I wouldn’t. I buy a wedding dress. The design I choose is simple and elegant. The halter neck will emphasize the proud set of her shoulders, and the low cut at the back will expose the golden expanse of her silky skin and the fragile line of her spine. The soft drape of the fabric will sweep over the top of her ass, exposing the dimples above. She’ll look like a goddess.
I have no idea if the size is right or if the dress will fit over her curves and in all the right places, but it will have to do. If the sales lady finds it strange that I buy a dress without letting my bride try it on, she doesn’t show it. She’s too much of a businesswoman to turn down a sale. Proving that point, she also sells me a veil, a clutch bag, and silk-covered Cinderella style slippers. At least I know Sabella’s shoe size.
My rightful place is in my soon-to-be wife’s bed—in my house—but I grant her another reprieve by booking into a hotel. I did promise to give her a day.
Come tomorrow, I’ll be done waiting.
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Sabella
* * *
The minute Angelo is gone, I get into my car and take the highway to the northeast. I clench the wheel to stop my hands from shaking, but that doesn’t prevent the tears from streaming over my cheeks as I put my foot down on the accelerator.
I can’t stop thinking about the fact that Angelo paid for this car. I can’t get over what he said. The closer I get to Great Brak River, the sicker I feel.
It’s teatime when I arrive. I dry my eyes and smooth down my hair, trying to force calm, but my stomach is twisted into a tight ball.
Doris greets me at the door with a gasp. “Happy birthday, Bella. If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve baked a cake. I can quickly go out and pick one up in George.”
“No, thanks,” I say, squeezing past her. “But it’s very kind of you to offer. Where’s Ryan?”
She frowns. “In the study. Is everything okay?”
I plaster a smile on my face. “Yes.”
Steeling my spine, I walk down the corridor to the room in which I haven’t set foot since my dad’s death. I take a deep breath and open the door. The nostalgic familiarity throws me off balance.
Nothing changed. The smell of leather and wood polish still hangs in the air. The throw on the back of the sofa is folded in the same meticulous triangle. The only difference is that Ryan sits in the big swivel chair.