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)
This morning, I saw the two of them leave together in the helicopter, and it made me queasy. I know he’s doing it to test me. He could have married her if he wanted to, but he didn’t. And every night, when I feel the bed dip as he lays beside me, I know he isn’t with her. But it still doesn’t make it any easier to swallow.
I consider a group call with my friends, but ultimately, I decide to have a private conversation with Mariella instead. It’s something I’ve been putting off, and I shouldn’t have.
She answers on the third ring, and the moment I see her face, all my emotions come flooding back to the surface.
“What did Angelo do?” She narrows her eyes.
“Nothing.” I smile at her through my tears. “It’s not him. I just… I needed to make sure you don’t hate me.”
“Of course I don’t hate you.” She softens her voice.
“But Matteo—”
“Is that why you called me?” she asks. “Because you wanted to punish yourself?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Maybe. I just didn’t want to listen to the girls tell me it’s not my fault and I don’t deserve this.”
“Well, you’re out of luck,” she says. “Because I’m going to tell you the same thing.”
“He was your brother—” I choke out.
“So is Angelo.” She offers me a grim smile. “Uncle Sal filled us in on everything. Am I sad that Matteo’s gone? Yes. But did he deserve it? Also yes. He destroyed Angelo’s life and ripped our family apart. There was no coming back from that.”
“So you believe he did it?” I ask.
“He confessed to it,” she answers. “So did the men who helped him.”
“But was it under duress?”
She stares at me for a moment and shakes her head. “I never could figure out what went on with you two. Were you with him just because you didn’t want to marry Angelo?”
I hesitate, then answer a little too honestly. “It was never that I didn’t want to marry Angelo.”
“Then why?” she presses.
“I want to tell you.” I close my eyes and blow out a breath. “And I will soon. But just not right now, okay?”
A beat of silence passes before she concedes and changes the subject. “How is the honeymoon going?”
“Well, he’s spent most of it with his assistant,” I mutter. “You remember Genevieve Wilkes?”
“Seriously?” She rolls her eyes. “What a dick move.”
“He wants to punish me.” I shrug. “I probably deserve it.”
“Abella, no.” Mariella glares at the screen. “Stop that right now. You aren’t going to let him get away with that.”
“Well, what would you suggest I do?”
A sly grin curves across her pretty face. “You punish him right back.”
22
ANGELO
“Hey, boss.”
I glance up from my desk to find Nicky hovering in the doorway. “Yes?”
“Uh, we got a problem. Not sure how you want to handle it.”
“What’s the issue?”
He scrubs a hand over his face, hesitating. “It looks like your wife decided to do a little sunbathing on the main lounge, and she fell asleep.”
“And?” I lean back in my chair, irritation flickering through me.
“And…all she’s got on is one of those thong bikini bottoms. You know the ones that look like floss between the ass cheeks?”
My blood heats as he paints that fucking picture for me. “She’s topless?”
“Yeah.” Nicky stuffs his hands in his pockets, and I know what he’s not telling me is that he’s seen my wife’s tits. But on a vessel this size, he’s certainly not the only one.
“I’ve told the deck hands to avoid the area for now,” he adds.
“Cazzo.” I stab a finger in his direction. “You scrub that fucking image from your mind. You understand me?”
“It’s gone, boss.” He waves his palm in front of his face as if to prove he’s erased it. But who the fuck is he kidding? There isn’t a man on God’s green earth who would forget the sight of Abella’s tits.
I slam my computer shut and skulk my way up to the main deck, where I find her just as Nicky described. She’s lying on her belly—topless—a single black strip of fabric slicing down the center of her round peach of an ass. Floss was an accurate description.
Oblivious to the dark shadow looming over her, she continues her nap without a care in the world. I grab her by the ankle and yank her toward me. She shrieks, hair tumbling around her face as I toss her over my shoulder and cart her off.
“Angelo!”
“If you wanted my attention, Abella, all you had to do was ask for it.”
She curses me in Italian, and I smack her ass hard enough to leave a palm print. She lets out a little yelp that goes straight to my cock.
I told myself I’d give her time to cry over her precious fucking Matteo. But she effectively ended the ceasefire when she made me question a murderous rampage of every man on this yacht.