Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
He knows what I was thinking and now flashes a brief but genuine grin. “You’d be surprised how many hours he spent out here, thinking and planning. He always said he thought better when he was out from behind his desk. Please, have a seat.”
He even pulls out a chair for me, then takes a seat opposite mine. Between us is an array of different foods: cheeses, fruit, bread, little jars of jam and butter. “Coffee?” he asks, and I nod eagerly. The aroma is even stronger than that of the flowers, and the taste is rich, better than any coffee I’ve ever tasted at home. It shouldn’t come as a surprise, I guess.
“I normally take a light breakfast. I don’t know why, but my appetite changes when I’m out here.” He helps himself to various items and fills his plate, then I do the same. “The baker is second to none. I’m almost anxious for you to taste his desserts.” He sounds friendly, almost. Like he hasn’t been keeping me prisoner all this time. I almost ask him what he’s trying to get at? His moods are giving me whiplash.
“So there’s a lot of staff on the grounds?”
“A handful.” I guess he’s not in the mood to answer questions. All I want is to get a feel of what I’m up against here. I’ve been secluded all these days and nights, with nothing to do but think and wonder and worry. It’s a good thing I’ve never had a problem with my own company. I know some people might go out of their mind, if forced to be alone for very long.
He’s already pouring himself another cup of coffee by the time he starts to talk about what he really invited me out here for. ““Now that I’ve had a few days to think, I believe the two of us ought to get a few things straightened out. I’m sure you have many questions you would appreciate having answers to, as well.”
“Yes, now that—”
“I will answer them in my own time, if at all.” Just like that, the very thin veneer of politeness dissolves, leaving me with the man who has countless times threatened to kill me.
He settles back in his chair, slicing up an apple in his hand. Obviously, he knows the effect it has, that knife, even if it is small. It takes conscious effort, but I force myself to look into his eyes rather than follow the knife’s progress. He flips a slice into his mouth, crunching loudly. “We have a problem.”
Just one?
“We are officially married. You are a De Luca now, for better or for worse. There’s no going back. Putting it mildly, I know this isn’t what either of us signed up for.” There’s a bitter edge to his voice that I guess doesn’t come as a surprise.
Married. Now I understand that I hoped we could declare the whole thing null and void and get it over with. I could bring up the fact that we haven’t consummated the marriage yet and could have it annulled, but something tells me all I’d get in return would be a quick, hard fuck on top of this table. Anything to remind me I have no say in this.
He gazes out over the gardens, looking almost wistful for a heartbeat. “In the end, Grandfather had only one wish for me. It was one of the last things he said to me just before the ceremony. That I need to carry on the De Luca name. Through all of this, that has been his only goal. I can’t tell you how many times he tried to set me up with random women he thought would be a good wife, a good mother. Somebody to provide me with plenty of heirs to carry on the family name.” He glances my way, his mouth drawn into a thin line. “He thought you fit the bill.”
I hope he doesn’t expect me to be flattered by that. The man looked at me and treated me like some broodmare, like only what I have between my legs gives me any value. I suppose that was the case to him.
“With that in mind, I want to make a deal with you.” He tosses the core onto his empty plate but keeps his grip on the little knife. I already know how fond he is of knives, so this doesn’t exactly thrill me much.
“What kind of deal?” Is my voice shaking? My voice is definitely shaking. I get the feeling he enjoys that, anyway.
“I will allow you to go back to your life, no strings attached.”
I wait, holding my breath. Finally, it’s too much. “If?” I prompt since obviously there’s something else coming.
“If you give me a son.”
A handful of words, but they hit me like a cannonball. I can hardly believe what I’m hearing. “A son?”