Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77359 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“Undo the top button.”
She looked nervous, but she obeyed, her fingers fumbling as she did so.
“Now the next one.”
She gulped but did as I commanded.
“Come here.”
The timid girl hesitated only a moment before walking over to me. Her eyes dropped to my pecs and abs once or twice as she neared.
“That’s better.” I lifted her hair off her chest, pushing it back behind her shoulder. I cupped her breast over the shirt and she gasped, her lips parting. “Much better.”
Placing a finger under her chin, I tilted it upward, looking down at her face. Her skin was so smooth and soft, her lips a perfect rose color.
And then I spotted something that made me see red. “Who gave you that?” I demanded harshly.
“What?”
“That.” I pointed at the locket hanging around her neck. “Was it Carmine or Stefano?”
“No, it’s—”
“Fuck this shit,” I growled. I’d let them have her so that she could gain a little experience, not to woo her with lingerie and jewelry and God knew what else. Clasping the locket, I tore it off her, the chain snapping as if it were paper.
She gasped, her hand flying to her throat.
The locket looked old and worn in my palm. Had it been something from our mother or grandmother that one of my brothers had found and repurposed? There was a little clasp on the side, and I thumbed it open. Inside was a dark-haired girl with huge eyes.
“Where’d they get a picture of you as a child?” I demanded. Allegra was staring at the locket in my hand. “Answer me.”
“T-That’s not me! It’s my sister!”
I frowned, staring at the picture. The girl looked like Allegra except I’d never seen my fiancée smile like that. “Where did this come from?”
“From my parents, after she died. It’s not from your brothers.”
Shit.
Fuck.
Goddamn it. This fucking day was just one layer of crap on top of another. I sank onto the edge of the bed, still holding the fucking locket in my palm. “I’ll fix it for you.”
A single tear made its way down her cheek. “Can I have it back?” She reached out tentatively, as if afraid I might bite her hand off, like the monster she thought I was.
With good reason.
I sighed and handed her the locket. It was a picture of her dead sister, and I’d ripped it from her throat. Maybe I should make a phone call and have her family executed and then set fire to her favorite teddy bear to complete the hat trick. “I’ll have it fixed,” I said again.
She nodded, her fingers light on my palm as she took it from me. She clutched it as if it were the most precious thing in the world as she padded into her little room. I could’ve called her back—reminded her that she slept out here now—but after the shitty thing I’d just done, it would’ve been too cruel. I needed to leave the poor girl alone.
But instead of climbing into her bed, she opened a drawer and bent over it for a moment, her soft hair falling loosely in front of her. Then she returned, the locket no longer with her.
She walked past me, giving me a wide berth, and then got into bed on the other side.
Surprised, I held still, feeling the mattress shift slightly as she adjusted her position.
Silence filled the room, and I turned off the light and went into the bathroom. I stared in the mirror for a long time, right into the face of a bastard. A face like my father’s.
Fuck this fucking day.
Allegra was quiet and still when I climbed into bed next to her. Well, not exactly next to her. It was a big bed, and there was plenty of space between us—more if you were thinking metaphorically.
I couldn’t tell her I was sorry. That was something men in my position didn’t say.
But I thought it.
21
LEILA
Sleep didn’t come, nor did I expect it to. There was no getting around it. Massimo hated me. He hadn’t known what the locket was, but you didn’t rip jewelry off a person you cared about.
He clearly didn’t care about me, and that broke my heart. Not because I loved him, but because I was bound to him. Massimo was going to be the father of my children. He was going to be my first on our wedding night if not sooner. And he didn’t even like me.
For some reason, out of all the things that kept me from sleeping, that seemed the most important. I was still worried about what I’d found in the attic, and upset about the locket, but I couldn’t get past the fact that he was marrying me and didn’t even like me.
I didn’t want a loveless marriage, but a “like-less” marriage, if that was even a thing, sounded worse.
He’d been so angry before when he tore the locket off my neck. The quick sting of pain was nothing compared to the look in his eyes. He was so mad at me for … wait. Why had he been mad? He hadn’t known that the picture in the locket was my sister, but what was so bad about me wearing it in the first place?