Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
I don’t bother with a towel or clothes. It’s all I can do to make it to the fluffy, king-size bed, where I face plant into the pillow. And there, I close my eyes and slip off into oblivion.
20
ABELLA
Iwake with a groan, my temples pounding as I open my eyes and blink up at the ceiling. It takes me a moment to orient myself, and then all at once, the events of yesterday come flooding back in vivid detail.
The wedding. The tattoo. The sex. The death. And then finally—the now regrettable champagne shower.
I cringe at the vague memory of collapsing onto the bed naked. I don’t think I even managed to pull the covers over myself. I’m still on top of the bedspread, but it appears someone did cover me with a blanket at some point. The space beside me is lightly indented, and I briefly wonder if Angelo slept in here with me last night.
I swallow the lump in my throat and force myself upright, glancing at the tablet on the bedside table. I use it to open the shades in the room and discover that we’re out to sea.
Next to the tablet, there’s a glass of juice and some Tylenol, along with a handwritten note. I recognize Angelo’s penmanship, the words neat and concise. He left me a message to inform me that the waterproof film on my tattoo has been changed and to leave it on for today.
I’m surprised I didn’t feel him doing that while I slept. I guess that means he probably covered me with the blanket, too.
For a moment, I find myself retracing the lines on his note with my finger. I stare at the spaces between each word, as if there might be something else there. Like why he cares if I’m sore or I get cold at night. But I’m searching for something that shouldn’t matter.
In thirty days, it won’t.
I take the pills and juice with the hope I might be somewhat functional today. My entire body feels stiff, overworked, and overstretched. I ache in places I didn’t even know I could. I swing my legs over the bed and definitely feel the demolition job Angelo’s cock did to my virginity last night. But out of everything, what hurts the most is my face.
I wander into the bathroom and grimace when I see my reflection in the mirror. My cheek is swollen and bruised where my father hit me, and so is my lip. There’s also a handprint-shaped imprint on my arm from when he forcibly dragged me down the aisle.
No amount of makeup is going to cover those marks today. On top of that, I look pretty terrible in general. My eyes are shadowed with dark circles, my hair is a rat’s nest, and my whole face is puffy from the alcohol I drank last night.
“Madonna Mia,” I mutter.
What a way to start married life. Then again, it could always be worse.
I blink rapidly and try to forget Matteo’s lifeless body. Compartmentalize. This is how we survive.
“Mrs. Vitale?” Veronica calls out from the other side of the door. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but Mrs. Scarcello requested that I ask if you’re up to having breakfast with her this morning.”
“Natalia’s here?” I turn toward the door, wondering if I heard her correctly.
“Yes,” Veronica answers, not offering further explanation. “What shall I tell her?”
“I’d like to have breakfast with her,” I agree. “Can you let her know I’ll be down in thirty minutes?”
“Of course. Do you have a preference for the menu, or would you like the chef to prepare a selection of foods?”
“The chef’s selection would be great,” I tell her, even though my stomach revolts at the thought of eating.
“Perfect. Mrs. Scarcello will join you in the al fresco dining area on the main deck when you’re ready.”
“Thank you, Veronica.”
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mrs. Vitale?”
I hesitate for a moment. “Can you tell me where An—my husband is?”
“He’s in a business meeting in his office,” she says.
“Okay.” My head dips against the door. “Thank you. I think I’m all set.”
Her footsteps fade away, and I splash some cold water on my face, hoping to wake myself up and reduce the swelling. A quick rummage through the drawers confirms they’ve already been stocked with all my things.
I grab a hair clip and secure my hair on top of my head. Glancing over my shoulder at the mirror, I get my first peek of the tattoo beneath the transparent film. But as I examine the crest bearing the Vitale name, it’s impossible to miss the addition underneath.
Per Sempre.
Those words send a shiver down my spine. I guess he decided to leave me a permanent reminder of the promise I made to him. A vow of love and loyalty.
He couldn’t know it was my love and loyalty that made me walk away. I did it for him. And now, we’ve come full circle. Right back to where we started with the same looming problems. Angelo doesn’t yet know it, but I do. In the light of day, it’s hard to forget.