Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 261(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
I take in her bed next. It’s made to perfection as only my staff can do—not a single wrinkle in the bedspread. I try to block out the reason why her bed is made. It’s because she was sleeping with me. She was wrapped in my arms lovingly. Her body heat pressed to mine, making me weak. Weak. She made me fucking weak and trusting.
Fury fills me as I storm to her closet to see that she indeed had packed some clothing. Was this calculated? Had she planned this all along? Was her goal to get me in bed, lower my guard, and then take off the first chance she had? Was it all a game? Was our connection nothing but… a scam? Was I the fool in her game?
Sweet, innocent, naive girl taking on the big bad wolf. But in this case… she was the wolf. So cunning. So—
I run my fingers through my hair, feeling dirt coat beneath my nails as I do. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How could I have read her so wrong?
I need to focus. I need to get my head back in the game.
Yes, the game. It’s just one fucked-up game. Lyriope has been playing a game from day one, and right now she’s winning, and I am losing. I’m losing my ass right now, and it’s time to shuffle the deck.
My chaotic thoughts go from longing, missing, wanting, to deadly obsession.
This isn’t how I act. I’m not a man in love. Fuck that. I’m a man who has a hunger, a craze, a maddening desire to possess. Nothing more.
Nothing.
More.
I storm to my bathroom to shower. I might feel like everything is out of control, but the first step is appearing as if all is standard operating practice. A shower. A suit. A shave. A fucked-up, maniacal smile on my face in warning for all to tread lightly around me. And a bag of ice for my knee. I pushed it too far fighting the flames myself and running down there without my cane. I can already feel the swelling as it throbs beneath my filthy pants.
As I wash off all signs of the awful night, I focus on one thing. Laser focus. Deadly focus. The kind of focus that latches on like a viper, refusing to let go. I’ll find Lyriope. And when I do… she’ll pay.
Chapter Two
Lyriope
This should be a dream, and yet it feels like a nightmare. I just flew first class to Italy. I should be ecstatic. I am literally completing a life bucket list item, but the only emotion that I’m feeling is fear.
I boarded the plane as Sasha Morelli. My cousin. She booked and paid for my ticket, which was my first time ever flying first class. The entire trip, I kept expecting the flight attendant to approach me with the knowledge that my real name is Lyriope Bailey, and I was breaking the law by impersonating someone I wasn’t. I remained in my seat, tucked against the window with a full bladder. I didn’t even want to get up to use the restroom in fear that I’d draw attention, and everyone would see me for what I was. A fraud.
“Are you here for business or pleasure?” the customs official asks me as he holds up my passport and stares at it and then at me.
I hold my breath, hoping to God the photo matches enough that he doesn’t see right through the fact that it’s Sasha smiling back at him. “Pleasure,” I somehow manage to say. “I’ve never been.”
Fuck. Sasha Morelli has been to Italy. There may be a stamp in that passport already from her visits.
“Well… I haven’t been since I was really young,” I correct. “I’m excited to be able to see it now as an adult.”
I’m talking too much. Nervous energy is surging through me.
He seems to be studying the picture longer than the other officials are doing with the other passengers, but I simply stand before him and focus on remaining composed. Will our matching dark hair and dark eyes be enough? We look alike, but not identical. Was this foolish thinking that I could actually get past customs as someone else?
He finally stamps the passport, closes it, and hands it back to me. “Enjoy your trip.”
Releasing the breath I have been holding, I continue toward baggage claim. I only have my carry-on and one other bag and am nervous that I don’t have enough to get by on. Sasha had told me that a driver would be waiting for me with a sign. She had informed me he’s from the property I’ll be staying at, and not to worry because no one has seen Sasha since she was a child. They will have no way of knowing that I’m not her. She said she called ahead and notified them of her upcoming vacation.