Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Their mother warned me.
Once we caught our breaths, he murmured into my neck, “This changes everything between us, Isla.”
He’s right.
There was no pretending after this.
No forgetting his mouth on mine.
His body on top of mine.
His dick inside me.
The way my heart didn’t hesitate to heal his.
This was the moment when reality couldn’t hide behind unasked questions anymore. The truth was in plain sight.
Glaring right at us.
* * *
Starting and ending when he came deep inside me, growling, “You’re mine now. No matter what.”
Chapter
Fifty-Two
Julius
I gasped, shooting straight up in bed. My hand instantly went to my heart, which hammered against my ribs. I was sweating and trying to catch my breath.
I’d heard that soulmates could feel each other from across the world. It didn’t matter how far apart you were. Your soul could feel theirs.
I never believed it to be true.
Until that very moment when the universe chose to tell me that our connection was stronger than the distance between us. It didn’t whisper it. It yelled it. Except I couldn’t hear what it was saying, I could only feel it.
Her turmoil.
What the hell is happening?
The panic started to settle in, and it was suffocating. For the past month, I thought of nothing but Isla.
Every single day.
There wasn’t a second that I didn’t see her face, her smile, hear her laughter, her moan…
Screaming my name.
“I want you.” She positioned my dick at her entrance. “I’m yours.”
“Isla, don’t say things you can’t understand.”
“I love—”
“Don’t say things I can’t understand.”
“Julius—”
I kissed her.
I was so lost.
I didn’t want to leave her, but I couldn’t stay with her either. Not in that house. It was a ticking time bomb for me. I was beyond exhausted. I spent my entire life taking care of someone else who didn’t give a shit about it.
I sacrificed my life for what…
I had nothing to show for it.
No degree.
No job.
Not a future.
Life took a one-eighty the day Melody died. The world flipped on its axis, dragging me with it. The floor finally fell out from beneath me, and I had no choice but to crash with it. My days turned into one huge blur of trying to find some direction.
I never intended to leave her the way I did, especially after we slept together. I knew it was wrong. Though it would have been worse if I had stayed. I wasn’t in the right state of mind.
For the first time in my life, I understood Melody, and that was the hardest pill to swallow. It was actually still stuck in my throat, and it didn’t matter how much water I drank. It was lodged in there.
My eyes shifted to the clock on the nightstand, and it read 4 a.m. I was in a hotel in Miami, drowning myself in work for Marco.
Grabbing my cell phone, I resisted the urge to call her.
Text her.
Try to reach out.
Explain…
What do I say? Where do I start? How do I make her understand?
I just needed a break. At least, that was what I repeated to myself every day. I wasn’t gone forever, and that thought alone made me spiral, contemplating how many times Melody had the same one.
Is it my fault she’s dead?
The guilt I carried felt like rocks being poured down my lungs, and now I had to live with that too.
For the rest of the week, I was on autopilot.
Confused.
Embarrassed.
Worried.
There wasn’t an emotion I wasn’t plagued by. Every day, I woke up at four in the morning, feeling her in every sense of the word. Completely unaware of which side was up or down, left or right. I was disoriented among my own thoughts, seeking comfort in my empty embrace. I allowed darkness to creep over me, smothering any light left inside me.
“Hey!” Marco greeted, pulling my focus over to him.
We were in his office at his club.
“You alright in there?”
I nodded.
“You don’t look alright. You look like shit.”
I shrugged. “I’m still making you money.”
“It’s not about the money.”
“What?” I scoffed. “We’re friends now?”
He leaned back in his chair with his arms behind his head. “I’d like to think so.”
“I don’t need a therapist.”
“No, but you do need a friend.”
“Don’t tell me what I need, Marco.”
He raised his hands in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger.”
I arched an eyebrow. “And what message is that?”
All in one breath, he ordered, “You need to go home.”
“You’re firing me now?”
“You’re no good to me when you look like you haven’t slept in weeks.”
“I’m fine.”
“Until what, huh? Until you’re so tired that you make a careless mistake, and I got the cops on my ass?”
“Marco—”
“You have a family waiting for you. You got a brother, a girl, you have someone to go home to. Why are you putting yourself through this? Why are you punishing yourself?”
“You don’t know shit about shit.”
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, alright? I know everything.”