Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67905 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“What if it were me?”
Axel turned quiet.
“And Bolton had my body and the identity of my killer. Would you let it go?”
He continued to stare at me.
“I don’t think you would, Axel.”
His eyes drifted away in his silence. “You would want me to choose Scarlett.”
“I would. But that wouldn’t stop you.”
His eyes found his glass on the table, and he stared at it.
“He wasn’t just my brother. He was my twin. I can’t let it go, Axel.”
“But you still trust him to keep his word?” he asked. “Because you fucked his wife, and he’s not going to let that go easily.”
“All I have to do is tell Astrid the truth.”
“No guarantee she’d believe you.”
I still remembered the way she looked at me, like I was the only man in every room we occupied. She put me on a pedestal I didn’t belong on. She accepted me with flaws that should be put on trial. “I think she would.”
“If she took him back, I’m not so sure.”
I didn’t know why she’d taken him back. I hoped it wasn’t because she was broken and desperate, like she didn’t have another option. Because a woman like that had unlimited options.
Axel turned quiet for a while. “Are you alright?”
I let the cigar rest between my fingertips. “I’m fine, Axel.”
“Come on,” he said. “Last time we spoke, you were going to give this relationship a chance.”
“It wouldn’t have worked out anyway,” I said. “It probably would have lasted a couple months before she wanted more…and I couldn’t give it to her. It would have been more painful for both of us in that scenario.”
“Or maybe it would have worked out.”
“It’s too soon, Axel.”
“Too soon?” he asked incredulously. “It’s been ten years—”
“How long would it take for you to move on from Scarlett?”
He went dead in the eyes at the suggestion, his soul snuffed out by a powerful gust of wind.
“It would take your entire life, Axel.”
3
ASTRID
I went to work at the gallery and returned to my small apartment in the evenings. Boxes of my things were everywhere because I hadn’t unpacked anything. I slept in a cold bed alone and made a sandwich for dinner. My life had burned in Technicolor…and now it was muted in black and white.
Bolton came by to check on me more than once.
I told him I was fine and then asked him to leave.
I never heard from Theo, and I accepted the fact that I never would. Bolton had told me the truth, and once he’d given me that context, everything made so much more sense. Theo and Bolton were in the game, so lying off the cuff like that was no problem for the Skull King. The second I saw the ring on his left hand, I should have stayed the fuck away.
Bolton wanted to get back together, but it was hard to forgive everything he’d done. He was the only comfort I had right now after Theo had discarded me like a used pen that’d run out of ink. Theo used to be the one who carried the burden of my problems, but now he was the burden on my heart.
I’d never been so lost.
The only men I’d ever trusted had both betrayed me.
I wasn’t sure if there was such a thing as a good man. All they cared about was sex and ego. And I was stuck in the middle, a pawn in their fucking games.
I’d been on the couch for a couple of hours, still in the same clothes I’d worn to work, looking at the blank TV that I hadn’t turned on. Time passed so quickly for doing nothing, and every time I looked at my phone, another hour had flown by.
The silence was disturbed by a knock on the door.
The only person who knew I lived there was Bolton, so it had to be him.
I checked the peephole before I opened the door, seeing him standing there in his coat, holding a grocery bag in one hand.
I looked him over, unsure what he wanted or why he was there.
He did the same to me, but he probably had more to see because I was pale as snow and broken like an ornament that had fallen off the tree. “I made you dinner. It’s not as good as yours, but it’s not bad.”
I glanced down at the bag as if I could see the contents through the exterior. “Thank you, but I’m not hungry.”
“Astrid, come on.” He stepped forward, crowding me backward and inviting himself into my apartment. “If you get any thinner, you’ll disappear.” He shut the door behind him and carried the bag to the kitchen counter. He opened the containers, and the food was still warm, steam rising from the bowls. “Set the table.”
Like a zombie, I obeyed, grabbing the plates and utensils and putting them on the small table next to the kitchen. I sat down and waited, watching him plate the food before bringing it to me. “You never cooked before, and now you’re a chef.”