Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Adriano smiles, and my heart sings once more. "Yes, sweetheart. I think that's an excellent idea."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“MOM”
Quinn
If we were normal people, we’d have hours of questioning ahead of us and we’d likely be facing arrest. But we are definitely not normal people. The police came alright, after Adriano’s men took their hostage with them. They took one look at Adriano and apologized.
“Don’t apologize to me,” he growled, and I swear to God they all took a step back. “My wife is the one owed an apology. That asshole could’ve hurt her mother or even worse, and he’s a wanted criminal in this state.”
I get my apology.
When we go back in my mother’s room, it’s been cleaned and smells faintly of antiseptic. My mom is blissfully unaware of the bloodbath that just ensued. I’m shaken, but relieved. My mother is safe. I’m safe, and so is Adriano.
But where does that leave us?
“We have a lot to talk about.” Adriano stands in the doorway looking tired and weary, but doesn’t enter, as if he knows he doesn’t belong here. His smile fades as quickly as it came now that everything’s been cleaned up.
I nod. “We do.” I don’t know what that conversation will entail, but I want some answers.
Wordlessly, he frames my face between his hands. My throat tightens at the look in his eyes. “Stay, Quinn. That’s all I’m going to ask. Just stay and hear me out.”
“I’m so confused, Adriano,” I whisper.
“I know, baby.” He kisses my forehead and squeezes his eyes closed before he looks at me again. “And you need to spend time with your mother. But I’ll wait for you.”
I know then, in my heart, he doesn’t mean during this isolated situation, this one incident.
I’ll wait for you.
I nod. I came down here for a reason, and even though I have a burning need to know every detail of what’s gone on and why, I need to see my mother more. But he’ll wait for me. I allow myself the smallest glimmer of hope.
“Where will you be while I do?” I brace myself for whatever he tells me. He’ll meet me back in Boston. Maybe he’s going back to Italy. Maybe we’re not doing this anymore.
“Right outside this door.” He gestures toward a folding chair. It’s such an odd contradiction: a self-made billionaire and dangerous criminal, sitting on a cheap folding chair in the hallway of a residential care facility. But he’ll wait for me.
“You do what you have to, then all I ask is that you listen to me. I’ve got a lot of explaining to do, and I promise I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
I swallow and nod when I hear my mother shifting on the bed behind me. “Okay,” I say, in a voice just above a whisper.
Adriano’s eyes on me grow heated and somber as he places a knuckle under my chin. “You have some explaining to do, too, sweetheart.”
My heartbeat thumps, and sudden tears spring to my eyes when hope blossoms in my heart. Hope.
When he winks, this time my heart does a full-on somersault. “We can do hard things, Quinn.”
I would laugh, because I know he’s teasing me, but I feel raw and exposed.
When he kisses me, my eyes flutter closed. I expect a tentative kiss, the hint of a question, but I should’ve known better. My husband isn’t the questioning sort. Adriano claims my mouth with the heat of the burning sun, his hands tangled in my hair. My knees buckle and I make a low hum of approval before he releases me.
Well, shit.
A faint sound of clapping comes behind me.
I forgot my mother.
I turn, jaw dropped, to find my mother smiling. She may have brain damage and the inability to talk—but that doesn’t stop her from cheering us on.
Adriano squeezes my hand just before he exits and closes the door behind him.
I’m shaking as I approach Mom. I have the worst case of adrenaline crash possible. I’ve barely slept in a week, I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning, and I’m in desperate need of a shower. But my mother waits for me, and I came here for a reason.
I sit beside her bed and hold her hand. When she points to the door, I know exactly what she’s asking.
“The man who kissed me? That’s my husband.”
My mother’s face lights up and her eyes go big and wide as she pretends to fan herself. That makes me laugh and God, does it ever feel good to laugh. She doesn’t even know the half of it.
“I told you I’d come back,” I whisper as I sit and hold her hand. I kiss her fingertips. “I’ll always come back, you know that, right?”
She nods and rests her head on the pillow. She knows.
“What’s this they said about a suicide watch for you?” I ask, observing her reaction. Was this part of the fabrication to get me to come?