Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“You’re my daughter now?” he asked coldly. “Because you called me Leonardo two seconds ago.”
I held his stare and let the silence pass. “Lucas will make a full recovery. Let’s move on.”
“Move on? I’m in the midst of a crisis.”
“Then you don’t have time to worry about my boyfriend, do you?”
He sank into the armchair, and once his fingers tapped the wood of the armrest, I knew he was really furious.
“As long as that asshole Lucas doesn’t touch me again, we’ll have no more problems. So, let it go.”
His fingers continued to drum. Tap. Tap. Tap.
“My man finished it, but yours started it. Remember that.”
His fingers tapped for a long time, his unblinking eyes focused on me across the room. Seconds continued, turning into a full minute. It got so quiet that the cars were audible outside the front gate. “It’s ironic, don’t you think?”
What?
“You run off to Paris because you want nothing to do with this life. Because you’re ashamed of what I do. Ashamed of what I’ve built. Ashamed of everything I’ve done to give you the life of a princess. And yet, here you are, in bed with someone just like me.”
“He’s not like you.”
“He couldn’t have hurt Lucas like that unless he knew what he was doing. I don’t need to know much about him to know we’re cut from the same cloth, to know he’s me, just thirty years younger.”
I could feel the pulse in my neck. Like a drum.
“You accept him, but not me?” He tempered his voice, letting it grow quiet in volume but loud in emotion. “It’s okay for him to kill people, but not me? Is he an arms dealer? Is he a trafficker? Those things are okay, but drugs are off-limits?”
My eyes shifted to the window.
“As much as it hurt me, I understood your decision to walk away. But now, I think you’re just a hypocrite.”
I looked at him again. “He’s not like you. He wouldn’t let me get raped. He wouldn’t let me be murdered.” He had the grace to blink, to shift his gaze away when I reminded him of his unforgivable mistake. “When someone crosses me, he protects me. Your son-in-law gave your daughter a black eye, and you behave like it’s nothing. Your son-in-law tried to punch me, and it’s inconsequential to you. No, you’re nothing alike.”
“Victor stopped it—”
“You should have stopped it. How can I stay here when I know you won’t protect me? It’s open season, and I’ve got a fucking target on my back.”
He looked away completely.
“He’s not the man I’ll marry, but he’s the one I need right now. If you don’t want to deal with him again, then don’t fuck with me.” I rose to my feet and prepared to walk out. “Those are words I should be able to say about you…but I can’t.”
“Laura.”
I’d just stepped out of the double doors when I heard his voice from behind me. I pretended I hadn’t heard him and continued forward.
“Laura.”
I stopped and gave a loud sigh. “Yes?”
Victor appeared at my side. In a short-sleeved shirt and dark jeans, he didn’t look cold despite the springtime chill. There’d been more showers than sunshine this year. His eyes quickly took me in and assessed my unease. “Let’s get a coffee.”
“Why?” I blurted.
He looked slightly taken aback. “I’d like to talk to you, and I can tell you don’t want to be here a moment longer than you have to.”
I headed out the iron gates that separated the property from the public street. “Fine.”
In silence, we walked a couple blocks until we stopped at the first café we could find. I ordered an Americano when I’d prefer alcohol, and he got the same thing. Because I wanted some comfort food, I grabbed a muffin too.
We sat together at a small table, the café empty because it was afternoon and everyone was having lunch. Victor sat there, his eyes on me nearly the entire time, looking at me like I was a bomb that might go off if he touched the wrong wire.
I picked at the poppy seed muffin, sticking to the top because that was the best part.
“You still do that?”
I grabbed a small chunk and put it in my mouth as I looked at him. “What?”
“You only eat the top.”
“Well, the rest of it sucks.”
He showed a small glimmer of a smile.
“What did you want to talk about, Victor?” I needed to return to Paris. I had clients who needed their clothes, and I knew Bartholomew needed to get back so he could…do whatever he did in the middle of the night.
“How’d the conversation go with your father?”
“Like all the rest. Shitty.”
“For what it’s worth, I think Lucas deserved what he got.”
I picked off another piece as I looked at him.
“I should have done it myself.”