Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
She looks down at her plate, pushing the food around again. “Why didn’t you introduce me as your wife earlier?” she mutters.
I could get whiplash, thanks to the way she changes the subject out of nowhere. “Excuse me?”
“Earlier. When that woman was here.” Her nose wrinkles like she smells something unsavory. “I’m your wife, but you didn’t bother introducing me as such. And I want to know why.”
I shouldn’t laugh—even I know that. I’m only going to end up regretting it when she throws a bigger fit and gives me a damn headache.
But it’s too funny. I can’t help it. “Is that what this is about? I didn’t use the exact verbiage you expected in front of an associate?”
“Oh, is that who she was?” She’s forgotten the pretense of eating her meal, instead folding her arms and swinging her leg back and forth. I truly wish she wouldn’t since all that does is draw my attention back to her creamy skin. God, how I long for her. “Do all of your associates kiss you on the cheek before leaving a meeting?”
“Yes, for all you know.”
“Give me a break, and this is about you not introducing me.”
“She is who I say she is. An associate, someone with a vested interest in assisting me with the Alvarez situation. I don’t appreciate having to explain myself to you.”
“And I don’t appreciate being treated like yesterday’s leftovers in front of a stranger.”
“That is your problem, not mine. And the language I choose to use in front of an associate is none of your business, so you would do well to pay no attention—or to learn how to deal with it, either way. But I won’t change my communication style for your sake. Forget about it.”
“Who the hell do you think I am?”
I meet her sudden outburst with bland acceptance, which clearly infuriates her. “My wife.”
She snarls, even baring her teeth. “Your property, more like. You want to talk about communication style? Fine, let’s talk about it. I am your wife. You do not own me. And if this little arrangement of ours is going to work out, you’re going to have to stop treating me like garbage. I matter, dammit.”
“When did I say you didn’t? Have I not been sitting here all this time trying to make conversation? If you’d rather, we can go back to you eating alone in your room. It would be a lot more peaceful for me.”
She throws her hands into the air with a bitter laugh. “Oh, well, let’s not disturb your peace, Mr. De Luca. Because the whole fucking world revolves around you.”
“Are you finished with your tantrum?” I ask, checking my watch. “Because I have a lot of work to get to and would like to know if I need to rearrange my schedule to accommodate your childishness.”
“Go to hell.”
“I’m sure I will,” I murmur in acknowledgment. “But not on your schedule. Sorry if that disappoints you.”
She pushes back from the table and jumps to her feet, throwing her napkin over what’s left of her meal. “Maybe from now on, I will eat alone.”
“Be my guest.”
An entire range of emotions washes over her face all at once. Frustration, anger, dismay, all of that, and so much more. What does she want from me now? I refuse to give in, no matter what the answer is. I don’t dance to anyone’s tune but my own. It would be better for her to figure that out sooner rather than later.
“You’re a bastard.” And with that, she storms from the kitchen, marching loudly through the first floor.
I don’t know why, but that’s what breaks my resolve. Her childishness. She wants a reaction from me? She’ll get one. I’m out of my chair and halfway up the stairs before I know what I’m doing, but now I won’t stop. I can’t stop. She’s going to learn here and now who has the upper hand.
“Leave me alone!” she bellows upon reaching her room. That’s when she makes the ultimate mistake of attempting to slam the door in my face. I catch it before it closes and shove hard enough that it bounces back and slams into the wall beside it.
“Oh no, wife of mine,” I growl as I enter the room. “That’s not how this goes.”
13
ALICIA
“I told you to leave me alone.”
That isn’t what I want. If it was, I wouldn’t have started an argument in the first place. It wouldn’t still stick in my craw that I watched another woman kiss my husband. A woman he couldn’t be bothered to introduce me to. A woman who makes me feel small and insignificant and not enough.
His narrowed eyes move over my face. “All this childish foot stomping, only to be told I should leave you alone? You need to make up your mind.”