Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 75144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Only the alliance members will get to stay in the fortress.
Suddenly, a wave of nausea makes my stomach churn, and I hurry Grace into the building and straight to the restrooms situated near the entrance. Not giving a shit that it’s marked for women only, I go in with her, and we’re just in time before she loses the lunch I managed to get into her.
I rub her back, wishing she didn’t have morning sickness.
Since it started, we figured out that I have what’s called couvade syndrome. When her morning sickness gets really bad, I always feel nauseous, which I’m now using as a warning sign to get her to the nearest toilet as fast as possible.
The doctor said it’s because I have anxiety about Grace being pregnant, which is the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard. I say it’s because I love her so much that she’s ingrained in my soul and we’re in complete sync with each other.
When she straightens up again, I ask, “Better?”
She nods as we leave the stall, and I let her rinse out her mouth before I pull her into a hug.
I love feeling her baby bump press against me, and as I rub her side the way she loves, I say, “We can take a look around later. I think you should go lie down for an hour or so.”
She shakes her head. “I’m fine. The boat ride to the island just made it a little worse.” When we walk out of the restroom, she asks, “Do you think I can get a glass of lemon water?”
“Of course.” I take her hand and pull her toward the back, where a small restaurant has been built in an encased garden.
The moment the grounds manager spots me, he rushes toward us. “Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Varga. I look forward to serving you in any way possible.”
“Thanks,” I mutter. “My wife wants a glass of freshly squeezed lemon water. Lots of crushed ice.”
“Immediately, Sir.”
He hurries away while I lead Grace to a table situated in the shade of a tree.
“Sit down, miláčik.”
She takes a seat, and just as I join her, I hear Santiago call out, “Ahhh, two of my favorite people.”
“Here we go,” I mumble.
I get up again and shake his hand while asking, “Did you manage to get a meeting for the property we talked about?”
“I did even better,” he replies with a grin. “I bought the place.”
“Now, why the fuck did you do that?” I ask, giving him an incredulous look.
When I mentioned to Santiago that Grace and I were moving to Chile, the man took it upon himself to find the perfect house for us.
Not a day has gone by where he didn’t spam me with photos of properties.
“It’s a welcome to South America gift from me to you and your lovely wife.” He levels me with a serious look I rarely get to see. “Forming a solid relationship with you is very important to me, Dominik.” A grin spreads over his face again. “Plus, I know how much you hate dealing with people, so I thought I’d do you a favor and take care of it all.”
Santiago and I stare at each other for a moment, then I hold my hand out to him. When he shakes it, I say, “Thank you. One day, I’ll get to return the favor.”
“You already did.” When I frown he gets up from his chair, and as he walks away, he explains, “You created this beautiful oasis for us all. The least I can do is buy you a fucking house. The title deed is in your private suit.”
“Thank you, Santiago,” Grace calls out.
“You’re welcome, beautiful.”
When I turn my gaze to Grace, she grins at me. “Admit it.”
“Fine. I like the fucker.”
“He’s something special,” she says as she kicks her ballet flats off.
The manager returns with Grace’s lemon water, two glasses of orange juice, and a platter of sliced fruit.
He quickly places everything on the table, then says, “Just call if there’s anything else I can do.”
Before I’m able to get annoyed, the man scurries off, which gains a lot of favor with me.
Evinka must’ve told the staff to stay away from me unless I call for them.
“Thank God,” Grace murmurs as she picks up the glass, and I watch as she downs half of the lemon water.
“Better?” I ask.
She nods, and glancing around at all the greenery and Asian décor, she says, “It feels so peaceful here. I’m going to love this little restaurant.”
“I figured once our son is born, there won’t be much time for cooking. This way, we can order in and never leave our suite.”
She lets out a burst of laughter. “And so the truth comes out. While you stay in the suite, I’ll be down here.”
“Fine, we can leave the suite once a day,” I concede, giving her a playful smile.