Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“I will take that as a compliment. Thank you very much,” I say, popping a french fry in my mouth. Angel had a craving for a Five Guys burger, so here we are, with two shady men standing near the entrance—a dead giveaway that no one should fuck with Angel or Dominic.
She slurps on the thick shake and looks at Dominic. He averts his gaze. “Dominic,” she warns.
“What, woman? You know he gets mad if I tell other people his business.”
She rests her hand on her stomach. “I’m pretty sure anything to do with Rya is his business.”
He sighs. “All I’m going to say is, I was with him two nights ago, and he definitely did not have sex with anyone. And I don’t think he has intentions of going anywhere else anytime soon.”
A cold relief washes over me, and I hate how that makes me feel. That sense of lightness, but also dread and embarrassment that I reacted in such a way, linger. That I let Crue crawl under my skin.
“He’s obsessed with you, Rya,” Angel says what Dominic could not.
“It’s just sex. Was just sex.”
“Was?” she asks.
“I’m done with it. I got Crue out of my system, and now I can continue with my life.”
“Was Crue a part of the discussion?” she asks warily. She and Dominic share a glance.
“He didn’t need to be. He doesn’t own me.”
They share another look. They might be under Crue’s control, but I sure as hell am not. Nor will I ever be.
“Is that why you’re hiding out?”
“I’m not hiding out.” I nonchalantly shrug, tapping my sharp nail on the table. “The Torrisi case is coming to a close. I have a lot of things riding on this case. Crue is a distraction.”
“Have we been a distraction?” she asks quietly, rubbing her hand on her stomach.
“No. Of course not. I’m so happy you’re here.”
“Only two more weeks, though,” she reminds me.
Again, Dominic and Angel share another look as if they are in on something that I am not.
“Can’t you convince him to go back home with you?” I ask Dominic.
He snorts. “Have you ever tried to convince Crue of anything?”
I sit back in my chair. Touché.
Angel leans over and reaches for my hand. It’s uncomfortable, but I don’t pull away. “You might be convincing yourself that Crue is out of your system, but I don’t think you’re out of his.”
“If you ever will be,” Dominic grumbles under his breath.
“This is not the life I want to be a part of. I have always been very clear about that.”
And the further away I am from Crue Monti, the better because I feel like I can breathe and think for myself again.
And more importantly, figure out how I’m going to avoid him.
CHAPTER 38
Crue
As I stare up at the hotel that Rya checked into two nights ago after she accused me of sleeping with another woman, I sigh. My little vixen is on the run, and I’m almost disappointed in her. I never thought she’d flee her own home. But what’s more disappointing is she didn’t think I could find her so easily.
Dominic is standing beside me. He drops his smoke and puts it out with his heel. “I don’t think you should go in tonight. Sometimes women need space.”
I shoot him a glare. “That woman is my soon-to-be wife. She should be by my side at all times. None of this cat and mouse shit.”
Although I do enjoy the chase.
But I have a job tonight, so I slip back into the car's back seat. Dominic starts the engine and takes off. I can sense he’s looking at me through the rearview mirror.
“We leave in two weeks. The families back home will want answers and a wedding,” he reminds me.
“I know,” I reply firmly. I don’t need reminding of my deadline.
Tentatively, he adds, “It doesn’t have to be her. It could be anyone.”
I glare at him. He shrugs his shoulders, remaining silent this time.
I know it could be anyone else.
But it has always been her.
Rya Ricci will be my wife.
CHAPTER 39
Rya
Dear Miss Ricci
Your attendance is required this weekend.
Reply.
Crue
My hands shake in rage.
Goddammit! I received that email one minute before a delivery was made to my hotel suite door. A large white box sits on my bed. So he knows I’ve been holed up in the hotel for the last week. And worse, he still expects me to be his little doll on display. When will this man get a hint or, at the very least, understand the term “ghosting”?
I sigh, curiosity getting the better of me as I open the box. I only lasted an hour. Inside is a long black dress with a slit up the outer leg. The front is low-cut. There are pearl earrings and a necklace to match the dress. He must have known I donated the last earrings. A pair of black Louis Vuitton heels finish off the outfit.