Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73250 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
On day twenty-three, it started. She costumed up, marched downstairs and threw open the front door. When Ivan turned to face her, she looked him dead in the eye and demanded, “You’re going to pass a message on for me. I want to speak to my husband.” Before he had a chance to respond, the door slammed shut in his face and then I watched as Vittoria’s expression turned restless.
Day twenty-four, twenty-five and twenty-six were very much the same, only her demand to speak to me grew more irate every time she made it.
By day twenty-seven, her spirit broke. This time, as she barked the order to speak to me, I didn’t miss the way her lips trembled. When she slammed the door shut and slid down the length of it, her bottom hit the floor and she burst into quiet sobs. My chest ached when she placed her forehead onto her upturned knees, fisted her hands and smacked herself weakly across the head, over and over again.
And regardless of what people thought, I hadn’t always been an asshole. That part of me was still somewhere in there. The deep dig to find it was usually rather hard. But not with Vittoria. Her sorrow cried out to what was left of my blackened soul.
The internal war raged on. My initial desire to see her pay for her crimes was sorely outweighed by the need to guard and protect her.
As I watched her body shrink in on itself, my fingers twitched around my phone.
So, she wanted to talk.
I clicked out of the surveillance app, placed my phone screen side down and leaned back in my desk chair, considerate.
Her tears were not enough to sway me.
That would be a conversation she would have to earn.
Chapter 13
We bleed together
Vittoria
One. Just one.
One escape attempt and my outside privileges were promptly revoked. The sound of drilling and jarring metal coming from all corners of the house were a dampening on my spirit. A quick glance to the window on my left and the offending items had my face screwing up in abhorrence.
Well, now you’ve done it.
If I considered myself a prisoner before, I was now officially a caged animal. The bars on every window made sure I knew it.
What’s worse is Ettore sent over his brother to deal with it. And if I had to look at his smug smirk one more time… My teeth gritted so hard that my jaw ached. When Daniele went around to each window and gave it a solid wrench, checking its strength, a stabbing pain behind my eye told me I was on the verge of a migraine.
Look, had my it been the best idea for an escape?
Some would have called it inventive.
I, unfortunately, was not one of those people.
Let’s be honest, once I was in the crawlspace, I basically had an immediate panic attack. I was not great in teeny spaces. To make matters worse, I got turned around and, mortifyingly enough, couldn’t find my way back out. It took a moment of extended consideration, but eventually I had to call out for help. Like a kitten being rescued, Marco – who was three times my size, mind you – was sent in after me and seeing his angry face crawl towards me had me backing up.
His growled, “Stop moving,” was enough to paralyze anybody.
My cheeks flamed and my throat swelled with embarrassment. Even more so when he positioned us so that I was on my knees in front of him and he guided me back to the manhole with a splayed hand on my butt, pushing me along, because my legs had turned to jelly and refused to work.
The moment I saw light gleaming through the small rectangular hole, I rushed towards it and when I looked up, out of it, there stood Ivan, glaring down at me. I could feel the thick coat of grime and dust all over my body. It itched and a small cough escaped me as he reached out. I took his hand and he pulled me up and out. Marco followed close behind, and then I was sandwiched by two very mad goons who looked at me like I was the bane of their existence.
Same.
Ivan put a finger to his earpiece. “We got her.”
Marco’s eyes lowered as he listened to the instructions being relayed through the feed, nodding. “Yeah. I wouldn’t worry about that. She’s not going anywhere.”
But I couldn’t concentrate on anything other than who was on the other end of the earpiece. “Is that him?” I leaned into Marco and he leant away from me as I all but yelled into his ear, “We need to talk.”
“No, she isn’t hurt.” Marco looked me up and down, his lip curled. “Just covered in dirt.”
“God,” I blew out, maddened, running both hands down my face in frustration. The laugh that left me was pure delirium and even though I looked Marco in the eyes, I was sure it was clear who my message was for. “I get it. You’re pissed. But I can’t change what happened. I am your wife and you are being a really shitty husband, Tor. I’m not asking for much here. What is it going to take?”