Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“He’ll see you at the ball.”
“He said he’d be here.”
“I guess something more important came up.” He walks a circle around me, and I don’t know what to do but stand there. “Has he fucked you yet?”
I turn my gaze to him. “Excuse me?”
He comes to stand in front of me. “My nephew. Has he fucked you yet?”
Is he for real?
“The look on your face tells me he hasn’t. Which explains why you’re not using the servant’s entrance.”
“I’m happy to use any entrance that doesn’t include having to talk to you.”
He snorts, looks almost amused. “I suppose he has to tolerate you, though, considering. Even if you are Cartel trash.”
I have no words and it’s rare that I’m left speechless.
“I don’t like you, Scarlett. I don’t like your family. If it were up to me, you, your brother and your uncle would be six feet under with the rest of them. You destroyed that boy.”
I know I shouldn’t care what he says or what he thinks, but that last sentence hits me, and I know he’s right, at least about that.
“But it turns out you may prove useful after all.”
“What does that mean?”
“Don’t you know?”
“Know what?”
He grins. “I’ll let my nephew take care of that. Take off your jacket.”
“What?”
He holds out his hand. “Jacket. I don’t suppose you need to wear it indoors.”
I should tell him to fuck off but instead I take off my jacket. By the time I hand it to him, his expression has changed, gone from cold and calculated to angry.
And it’s not me he’s looking at. It’s the dress I’m wearing.
“Where did you get that dress?” he asks, his tone low, rage barely controlled.
I look down at it, wonder what’s wrong with it. “Lenore gave it to me.”
“It’s not yours. Take it off.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Take it off,” he says through gritted teeth.
“Fine. Just let me go to my room. I have something to change into—”
“Now!”
I almost jump at that. “No. No way.” I glance back at the door where the servant, who probably doubles as security from the look of him, stands.
“Don’t make me tear it off you.”
“I just—”
He grabs hold of my arm, his grip painful. “Take. It. Off.”
“Why?”
He drags his gaze from the dress. “Because it belonged to Melinda. He shouldn’t have given you one of her dresses.”
Melinda. Cristiano’s mom.
Just then Joanna returns into the living room. “The women from the salon are ready, sir.”
He doesn’t take his eyes off me. “The dress. Now.”
I reach back to undo the zipper, just wanting to get out of here now, knowing he’s not going to let me walk out of this room without giving it to him this second. He releases me when I pull it off. At least he doesn’t look at me with leering eyes as I hold it out to him. Using my other arm to cover my breasts, I’m grateful Cristiano bought me both bra and panties on our shopping spree.
If Joanna thinks it’s at all strange, she doesn’t let on. David takes the dress and looks at me once more. I’m grateful it’s only contempt I see in his eyes.
“Don’t leave your room until I come for you, am I clear?” he asks, tone scratchy, hateful.
“Crystal.”
“Joanna,” he barks.
“This way, Miss.”
Keeping one arm strapped over my breasts, I follow her up the stairs and to my room where women are setting up what looks to be a mobile salon. Joanna holds out a robe for me as soon as we’re inside.
“Here you go,” she says.
I take it. It takes me a minute to thank her because I’m not expecting this kindness. How long has it’s been since I’ve expected anything resembling kindness?
She nods, not quite meeting my eyes but the look on her face tells me she’s embarrassed at having witnessed that.
I pull the robe on, sitting where the women tell me to sit and just tuning everything out. I try to make myself go numb, which is getting harder and harder to do because all I can think is that Cristiano is the closest thing to an ally that I have right now. I need him, need his protection. Because I know he’s all that’s standing between me and a grave.
But it’s more than that.
And it would be less complicated if it weren’t.
19
Cristiano
“He’ll be pissed but I don’t care. I want men riding with my uncle and Scarlett. How many are on property?”
“Thirteen, sir. I’m seeing if I can get some on the roof without raising eyebrows,” Antonio says. “Don’t worry, we’ve got it covered. If it becomes more than a threat, we’ll take care of it.”
“And get her out. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
I disconnect the call and dial my uncle. I’m on my way to the event location but am later than I hoped. I had two things to do when I left Scarlett after lunch. First, pick up the rings. Wedding bands. Simple. That’s what I should have stuck to, at least.