Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75589 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“How?” I ask. She stops in her tracks, surely heading for her luggage.
“Burt will take me.”
I chuckle. Made a fucking cock-up, might as well not stop now. “Burt’s under my service, not yours.”
“Graham. Alba.” Luxury’s head is held high.
“Double homicide.” I quip with a laugh. “By all means, Luxury, force me to murder them.”
She scoffs. “You’d murder your own brother?”
My eyes never waver as I stare at my possession. “We all have to die sometime.”
“Suit yourself, Victor. I’ll walk to the airport. I’m not the brightest, but I didn’t come here with an empty bank account. I can afford to hightail it back home.”
“Very well. Please don’t forget my innocent Little One, you have all the money at your disposal here.” I press forward in my chair and pull the diamond-crusted money clip from my tailored pants. Thousands of euros fly toward her feet. “If you need more, I beseech you to inquire with my servant. Burt will provide you with extra credit cards or purchase any asset your eyes land on. Burn money if the notion crosses your mind. That still doesn’t permit you to leave permanently.”
“Hmmm, so I can spend every cent you have? As if I really want your money. Do you know what your problem is?” Her bare feet waltz over the crisp cash.
I down the whiskey and refresh the tumbler. “I don’t bloody care. I’m a royal, Lux, that recuses me from all blame.”
“Oh, you are more than an asshole.” She chuckles softly. “You, the man I’m so mad over, are afraid, Victor Tudor. You are a coward.”
“Is that so?” A derisive brow lifts. “I fear nothing.”
“Wrong.” Luxury stops right in front of me. “I do not know the pain of your loss. Though so different from burying a wife, there is nothing parallel to losing a mother. But a child should bury their parents, so I can’t even fathom what you—”
She seems to be judging her words as if I need any more consolation. I’ve enough condolences to rival all my liquid assets.
“Very different! Luxury, if there are any more questions burning in that lovely head of yours, you’re seeking them from the wrong person. You’re a very inquisitive young chit. Go bother Graham.”
“Ohhh . . . fucking shoo me away?” Her eyes taper thoughtfully. “Yeah, I’m curious. I’m young. I’m short. You’ve stepped on me enough, Victor. But unlike you, you who fear falling in love. You fear the very thought of giving your heart away after such tragedy. I have a fucking heart. Call me crazy, but I will wait.”
“Wait?” I bark. My eyebrows crinkle at this daft girl. My mind is sullied by thoughts of another lifetime. Emeli and Jude. They need to disappear.
“I’ll go home for a couple of days, gather my bearings, but Vic, I will come back. I will wait for you to love me,” she murmurs the profession with a heart as pure as gold and as innocent as my dearly departed son.
In all my hardness, and the tension reverberating off my being, Luxury reaches over to touch my hand. Before her silky, little fingers can pull emotions out of me, I snatch it away. The pain in Luxury’s eyes is unbearable.
But I meet her hopeful gaze. “You will stay—and because you insist—you shall wait forever.”
45
Luxury
Nightmares chased after me all night. My bones scream once I awaken. Before turning on my side, I feel Victor’s presence. Not the detached tormentor from last night, but a commanding presence, nonetheless.
I was going to leave him last night.
Leave and never return. Yet, in the madness of the moment, I couldn’t. I removed myself from the situation. I thought about all he had lost.
And how he wormed his way into my life and unlocked long-dormant, treasured memories.
Sentiments.
He helped me plant flowers from the ashes, reclaim my relationship with Momma, and not desensitize myself with her, calling her Gina.
Now, tired as I was when lying down hours ago, I quietly contemplate Momma and how she was afraid to fall in love with Charles. Fear of the appeal he exuded sent her into the arms of another man—my father.
The day I first laid eyes upon Victor, the very same fear shook my body. Love is the lack of control and the submission of yourself to the will of another. It puts another’s feelings into perspective above your own.
Up until now, I thought Victor was a heartless bastard when it came to love. To be an assassin, I’m sure there’s a high level of detachment. But to know he had loved, and loved hard, that hurts like hell.
Without words, Victor’s eyes seek mine. A warm, calming blue sea intends to pull me in, engulf me, and wash over my tattered heart. His forgiveness is like drowning in a summer rain. And not love. Something comparable to love.