Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 27333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27333 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 137(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Sarica: How are you? Where are you now?
A smile tugs at my lips despite everything. Will the older girl kill me if I tell her she's so unbelievably sweet and thoughtful to worry over me?
Gazelle: I'm fine. Currently aboard Lorenzo's chopper.
Sarica: This is going to sound awkward, but I'm pretty sure no one's thought to check on you about this, and since I know you've never dated...
Sarica: Let's just get this over with.
Sarica: Are you nervous about tonight? Do you need me to talk to you about anything?
I drop my phone in my shock, and I automatically bend down to reach for it when I remember too late where I am.
Aaaaaaah!
Lorenzo hauls me back to safety while also managing to catch my phone at the same time.
"Are you a fucking idiot? You do not fucking kill yourself over a stupid phone!"
All I can do is stare at him, and I don't understand. Why are suddenly there two of them, and why are both Lorenzos spinning round and round and round?
"Fuck."
I think I'm in shock, and I think the same thing has finally dawned on him.
"Fuck."
But this time, grimness has replaced the earlier fury that had darkened his tone.
"Breathe, Gazelle."
I have no idea how he's doing it, but my body is reacting involuntarily to the way he says the words, and I find myself slowly and shakily obeying his command.
"Good girl."
I can feel my heart rate gradually slowing down.
"That's it."
My head finally stops spinning and hurting. The two Lorenzos melt into one, and my vision finally clears.
Green eyes lock with mine.
"Better now?"
I don't trust myself to speak just yet, and so I slowly nod—-but stop when this makes my head start aching again.
"Lie back and close your eyes."
It's that tone again, and my body automatically moves to obey its command.
"Don't think about anything."
Everything about this confuses me.
"You're safe now."
But the moment he says those words, all the puzzle pieces fall into place, and I finally get it.
I'm safe, he says.
And I believe him because I trust him.
I trust Lorenzo.
Even if everyone thinks of him as a monster—-
I trust my husband.
I trust my beast.
And it's why I'm his to command.
Journal Entry
I mean it, this time.
I'm blocking Sarica's number.
For real!
LORENZO WAITED UNTIL his wife was sure to be asleep before he started swearing in his mind.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
His heart was still beating like mad against his chest. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this out of control. Or this much fear.
If he had been a few seconds too late, his wife would literally have fallen to her death, and all because of her stupid phone.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
He had the most violent urge to throw her phone out of the chopper, and he clenched and unclenched his fists in an effort to control his temper. He didn't even know why he was furious, dammit.
All he knew was that the thought of losing his wife had made him see black.
And the last time that happened—-
A lot of people died.
So many fucking people.
And he had killed all of them without remembering a single thing.
Breathe.
It was his turn to work hard at regaining control over his body.
Breathe, dammit.
His emotions.
Breathe.
His sanity.
Lorenzo slowly reached for his wife's hand before closing his eyes.
The blackness gradually receded.
And he found himself squeezing her hand as if needing to reassure himself that she was real.
Alive.
And still his.
The thought jarred him to the core.
Fuck.
He had never been the type to feel possessive towards anything, much less anyone.
Until her.
The phone he was holding suddenly buzzed, and Lorenzo stiffened.
Sarica: Oh my gosh, Gaz.
Sarica: I know why you're not texting me back.
Sarica: And I just can't believe our little Gazelle is all grown up!
Sarica: You're excited about your wedding night, aren't you?
Journal Entry
Why has no one warned me about my husband being a gentleman?
I STILL FEEL SLIGHTLY faint as Lorenzo takes me into his arms and carries me out of the chopper. But instead of setting me back on my feet, he ignores my half-hearted protests and refuses to let me go.
The road leading up to his place is long and winding, but I eventually have my first glimpse of my new home, and it's nothing like what I expected.
At all.
Even before our flight back to New York, I had already given myself a pep talk about needing to appreciate whatever his residence looks like. And in my mind, I had pictured something big, black, and fortress-like. Something that would fit his image and reputation as the Beast of New York.
But instead, it's the opposite.
His home is grand and old and beautiful, a palazzo surrounded by lush greenery and scenic mountain views, and is that the sound of a running brook I'm hearing?
Lorenzo finally lowers my feet to the ground. "What do you think?"
The question makes my heart race for some reason. His beautiful face is impassive, but I still can't help thinking my answer matters to him.