Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 189782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 759(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 759(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
“There’s no need for alarm.” Monty breezes past us, gesturing vaguely into the shadows. “It’s my security team.”
“What security team?” I run a hand down Leo’s stiff spine, trying to relax him.
“After the video…” Monty turns back to face us, raindrops clinging to his black lashes. “Seeing Denver sitting in our house, I took no chances and hired the team before we left the lawyer’s office.” His gaze locks with mine. “To ensure your safety.”
“You didn’t think to mention this before?” Leo squints into the rain, the droplets drumming a relentless beat against the path, echoing my racing heart.
“I wanted to tell you when we arrived, Frankie.” His eyes darken with regret and longing, a silent apology hanging between us. He starts to move forward, an impulse stopped by his better judgment. “One less thing for you to worry about.”
His restraint hits hard, reminding me of everything we’ve lost, of every wound not yet healed.
“Thank you.” I squeeze Kody’s hand.
He squeezes back. “Let’s keep moving then. The sooner we’re inside, the better.”
Monty takes the lead, his back straight despite the tension in his shoulders.
His concern is evident, his actions respectful, yet the distance between us feels awful. Even if I’m the one enforcing that distance.
As we approach the grand doors, the sense of foreboding grows, but so does my resolve.
Leo glances over his shoulder one last time before we maneuver inside, his profile chiseled with sharp lines. His hand shifts to rest on my lower back, guiding me in. Kody’s grip on my fingers never wavers.
Warmth greets us at the threshold, our footsteps loud in the vast foyer, making the space feel empty despite its opulence.
We shed our wet coats, hanging them in the entryway.
“I’ll introduce you to the security team later.” Monty strides ahead toward the kitchen. “For tonight, make yourselves at home. There’s plenty of food. Frankie and I can show you around in the morning.”
“I’ll start now.” Leo takes off, charging through the main sitting room, his untamed physique casting a beastly shadow against the elaborate decor.
His braided hair, wild and drenched, clings to his rugged face as he opens every door he passes—closets, cabinets, even peering behind curtains and framed art.
Veins stand out on Monty’s neck, his jaw clenched. He’s not thrilled with Leo’s invasion of privacy, but when our eyes connect, he says, “Let him explore.”
Oh, Leo’s not exploring. He’s hunting for cameras, secret spy holes, implements of torture, anything to confirm his suspicions about Monty’s true intentions.
We trail behind him, drifting from room to room, water dripping from our clothes and forming a path on the polished floors.
The estate looks exactly how I left it, spotlessly maintained as if a full staff lives here. But Monty is too private for that. The chef, housekeeper, primary chauffeur, and landscaper don’t reside on his island.
He always lived alone.
Until me.
In the dim glow of the hallway, he stands like one of his many sculptures, carved from mystery, old money, and power, his presence as commanding as a tsar in his imperial palace.
“When was the last time you were home?” I watch Kody wander the room, his interest piqued by the Soviet-era statues.
“Months.”
Because he was looking for me.
After he cheated on me.
The agony of his betrayal surges anew, tangled with a grudging gratitude for his search.
It’s hard to look at him. The purplish-black marks left by Leo’s violent beating stand out against his pale skin.
Seeing him like this stirs unwanted things inside me. I hate that he’s in pain, even after he caused me so much. It’s fucked up, this tenderness for a man who hurt me.
As I discreetly examine his swollen cheek, the anger I harbor wars with the instinct to reach out and comfort him.
I wish I could trust his reasons for helping me when I’ve clearly moved on.
But I can’t trust him.
He catches me staring, his eyes shadowed with guilt and something else. I quickly avert my gaze, not wanting him to see the conflict in my expression.
I don’t want him to think I’ve forgiven him, because I haven’t. But I can’t deny the empathy and old feelings that well up at the sight of him bruised and underweight.
“You should get those looked at.” I keep my distance, arms crossed defensively over my chest.
“You’re looking at them. That’s all I need.”
“Stop.”
“Stop what?”
“You know what.”
We stand there in awkward silence, the air oppressive. It’s confusing, frustrating, the lines between love and hate blurring beyond recognition.
Leo’s heavy boots thud against the ornate rugs, his suspicious nature propelling him into the main room with high painted ceilings and intricate moldings. Kody follows closely, pulling me along while observing every luxurious detail with a feral wariness.
They both pause when they recognize the couch.
The one I handpicked when Monty and I married.
The one Denver occupied when he made the video.
“No one will break in here again.” Monty’s eyes, like chips of glacial ice, assess us with unsettling intensity. His carved, clean-shaven jawline gives him a stern, intimidating allure that only heightens the air of authority that clings to him. “No one will step onto this island without me knowing about it.”