Total pages in book: 28
Estimated words: 26912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 135(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
None of the things she imagined had the smallest chance of coming true since the moment she saw him—-she saw nothing else.
He consumed her whole world without even trying to, and there was suddenly no one else she could think of, no one else she could remember but him.
Andreus.
The name she had tried so, so hard to forget...was all she could think of now.
Andreus, Andreus, Andreus.
She had clearly been deceiving herself all these weeks.
Had she really believed it would be that easy to forget him?
Oh, Andreus.
And then there was her heart, which was as foolish as ever, with the way it was now fluttering in the sudden and powerful presence of its murderer.
Oh, you big idiot, you.
Her heart's stupidity even appeared to be contagious, with her mind now similarly infected, and willfully making itself blind to the woman clinging to Andreus' side.
Married, Hallie desperately sought to remind herself.
Andreus was now married and someone else's husband.
He was no longer hers.
But even though her mind was painfully aware all of these things, it still insisted on commanding her eyes not to see what it knew.
What you see won't hurt you.
It was what her mind was insisting on while handing off the reins to her heart. And right now, all her heart cared about was its killer.
You're so stupid, heart.
All Hallie could see now was him.
Ruggedly and broodingly gorgeous in a way that he could only ever be, and so, so fiercely imposing that he could easily make people feel in danger just by standing close to them.
She was glad—-so, so glad that these parts of him were still there, and yet...
There were also things about him that had changed, and these changes were so hauntingly evident they had her heart finally stop fluttering.
Oh, Andreus.
He had obviously lost weight, but that clearly wasn't the only thing he had lost.
In all the years she had known him—-
In all the years she had loved him—-
There had always been this streak of savageness Andreus had never been quite able to completely conceal. A darkness that always made him just one outburst away from turning into a rampaging beast.
He was and would always be the kind of man who only played by the rules for the people he loved, and it was for the same group of people that he would not hesitate to unleash the violence that constantly seethed inside of him.
Andreus would lie, steal, kill if that was what it took.
Whatever it took, he would do it.
That was the Andreus she knew, the Andreus she loved.
And so why, dear God?
Why was the Andreus standing before her now...so, so glossily perfect, it almost seemed he was no longer alive?
I don't understand, God.
She could feel herself trembling as she mustered the courage to search for the truth in his gaze, but by the time she finally lifted her eyes up to his—-
It was already too late, with Monique deliberately stepping in front of her husband, and Hallie's eyes could no longer remain blind.
I'm not special anymore. I'm not. And I can never be.
This was the truth, and while her mind had succeeded in denying reality for a few precious moments, there was no hiding from it now, and the pain of this truth completely caught her off guard.
God, I'm such a loser.
The wheels of her chair let out a mortifyingly loud squeak as Hallie yanked her gaze away from the couple and swung her seat back to the table in clumsy haste.
MONIQUE'S RESENTMENT was slightly mollified when she saw the flash of despair in the other girl's eyes, and she made a show of holding on to Andreus as he walked her to her seat...which apparently was not next to his.
What the fuck?
A furious sweep of her gaze showed that the only other vacant chair on the table was right next to Hallie Athanas, and no way was she going to let the half-Greek slut sit next to her husband's.
"Can't I sit next to you?" Monique made sure to whisper the question in a way that other people in the room would hear, and while she was sure that was enough to have Hallie lose face into giving up her seat—-
"I'm afraid not." The strain in Andreus' voice took her by surprise, and when Monique looked around her again, she realized that while most of the board members appeared discomfited as she meant them to be—-the discomfort seemed to be on Monique's behalf and not Hallie's.
What the hell?
She knew she had an image to uphold, and that it was better for a woman like her, whom everyone believed was a saint, to simply let this go—-
Damn her!
Why did Monique always have to be the one to pretend? Couldn't Hallie just keep pretending to be nice and give up her seat so that Monique could sit next to her husband, as she rightfully deserved?