Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
“Can we go to my favorite restaurant? The seafood one?” I slip on my high heels.
“If you like.” He finishes up shaving, and he puts his suit pants on along with a crisp white shirt. He begins to pull on his tie, and he loops it around as we talk.
Is he even listening to me? “What about your mother? Shall I ask your mother and Francesca?”
“No, Olivia,” he replies. “My mother doesn’t do drinks on a Wednesday, and Francesca is too young to drink.”
I smile as I walk into the bathroom. “So, you were listening?”
His eyes drop down my body, and then rise back up to my face. He steps forward and fastens up the top buttons on my shirt. “Yes, I was listening.”
“Will you book a table?” I kiss him softly and turn to the mirror to undo the two buttons again.
“Yes, I’ll book.” He turns me back toward him and does one of the buttons back up.
I go to undo it again, and he holds his hand up. “Leave it.”
I instantly stop. My body won’t disobey him, even if I wanted it to.
His eyes drop down me again, and he rearranges my skirt, tucking in my shirt.
“You look beautiful.” He smirks at me. “I don’t want anyone looking at what is mine. Leave the buttons fastened.” He runs his hand down my waist to my behind and gives it a hard squeeze before he goes back to working his tie. “We have to go to Roma this weekend,” he says.
“Why?”
“I have a business meeting there.”
I think for a moment. “I might stay here. It will be a good opportunity to see Natalie and catch up on a few things.” And by things, I mean sleep. This man is wearing me out with all his nocturnal activities.
“No.” He puts his suit jacket on.
“No?” I frown.
“You go where I go.” He slips on his shoes. “And we go to Roma this weekend. We can go to the bar where we met. I will take you dancing, we can re-enact our first date.”
I smile, knowing he’s dangling carrots now. “Okay.”
He lifts his briefcase. “Maso will take you to work this morning. Where are your keys?”
I begin to apply my makeup. “In my bag. Why?” I watch on as he slowly slides a key onto my keyring. “This key.” He passes me another two of the same one. “This is a key to your safety deposit box in Milan.” He passes me a business card. “Keep one of these keys at work, and another with Natalie or Giorgio.”
I frown as I stare at the large silver key. “What do I need a safety deposit box for?”
“Just in case.” He kisses me quickly.
“In case of what?”
“My death.”
“What?”
“I’ve made arrangements for you in the event of my death. If I die, I will have been murdered, and you will be their next target.”
My face falls.
What the actual fuck?
“In the safety deposit box, you have five passports of different nationalities, and instructions on how to access money that I’ve secured for you in offshore accounts.”
I begin to hear my pulse in my ears. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Olivia. Listen to me. Lorenzo has all the instructions, but in the event that he goes with me, I need to tell you this. If I die, you get yourself to that deposit box without being followed, and you get out of Italy immediately. Tell nobody—and I mean absolutely nobody—where you are.”
I stare at him, completely lost for words.
His face softens with empathy, and he cups my cheeks. “Bella, I have to be prepared, that’s all. Don’t worry.”
“Do you think you’re going to die?” I whisper. What the hell is going on here?
“No,” he replies as he takes me into his arms. “But what kind of man would I be if I didn’t have arrangements in place for you?”
“A normal one.”
He smiles broadly, and then goes to his wardrobe. “I am not a normal man, Olivia, and we have had this conversation too many times this week.” He glances in my wardrobe and looks at all the shopping bags that I haven’t even opened yet that are sitting on the floor in there. “When are you going to look at the things I bought you?”
My heart drops. To be honest, I don’t want to. I’ve been putting it off. I can’t even begin to fathom the money he spent on me.
“I haven’t had time. I’ll do it tomorrow night.” I shrug, disappointed in myself that I’m coming across ungrateful. “Thank you again. I’ll wear one of the dresses tonight.”
He raises a brow, clearly unimpressed.
I stare at him, rattled that he has just given me his death plan as casually as taking out the trash. And yet he stands here, annoyed that I haven’t looked at the fruits of his shopping trip.