Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
I push myself to my feet. “Can I just not answer that question? And just say that it’s complicated?”
“You can,” she says, watching me. “But I’ll still be worried about you.”
“I’m fine. Really, I’m fine. I live in a house with a fish in the floor, remember? Who wouldn’t be fine?”
I give her my best smile and walk off with a wave, heading back to Alonzo, to the car, and back to the beautiful mansion.
Chapter 47
Camille
I stand in front of the big mirror at the vanity in my bathroom.
Beautiful granite countertops. Gold framing around everything. Luxurious towels, fresh flowers, oil scent infusers. Everything gleaming, everything clean.
Everything impersonal, distant, too perfect.
I touch my face, drag a finger down my cheek. How did I end up here, in this place?
My life was a nightmare with Christopher. This is infinitely better. I don’t go to sleep wondering if my husband is going to hurt me each night. I still take birth control, but mostly because I’m afraid that if I stop, I’ll get trapped.
I don’t want to feel like I’m in a cage.
Not ever again.
But this feels wrong too. I should want this place, want the comfort, the ease. I should be happy that I get to lie around the pool all day drinking champagne, chatting with Helen, walking along the lake, watching the sun rise and the sun set.
I can go to work if I want to, but I don’t have to.
But I want more than to exist. I want to be something.
That’s why the diner was so important to me. I was my own person there, even if I was just another anonymous waitress in a big city filled with waitresses.
At least I had a purpose.
Here, in this house, my only purpose is to survive. To keep on breathing. To be Evander’s wife.
For a while anyway.
The door to the room opens and closes. I pull my silk robe tight around my body before drifting out, only to find Evander sitting at the end of the bed, unbuttoning his shirt. I stare at him for a moment, at the tension in his shoulders, at the exhaustion knitting every inch of him into a tight ball.
He glances back at me and nods.
“Bet you’re surprised I’m here,” he says, tossing the shirt aside. He cracks his neck with a grunt.
I stand in awe of his body. I’m always amazed at his muscular shoulders, his massive forearms roped with veins, the tattoos inked into his skin. The scars crisscrossing his chest and biceps.
He should look more vulnerable without his clothes.
Instead, it only makes him look that much more dangerous.
Otherworldly and beautiful, but still deadly.
“I am,” I admit. “You haven’t been coming home much.”
“Been ugly out there.” He stands, rubbing his neck. “But I needed a night off.”
“Even crime lords take breaks.”
He smiles tightly before unbuckling his belt. I feel myself blushing and hurry into bed before he undresses completely. I slip out of my robe, let it drop to the floor, and crawl under the covers.
The lights snap off. Evander climbs in beside me. I feel him breathing, feel the heat roll off his body. I’m wide awake, tighter than a power line, buzzing with anxiety. I forgot what it was like to have him in my bed, and now that he’s here, it’s like I can’t stop thinking about him.
I can’t sleep, knowing he’s there.
“Camille,” he says, and I blink rapidly in surprise.
“Yes?”
I expect him to say—I don’t know what. A million different things. Apologies, small talk, lullabies.
Instead, he says, “Your ex-husband is a pain in my ass.”
I smile slightly. “That’s putting it mildly, I bet.”
“He’s like a cockroach. I stomp and stomp and he’s still not dead.”
“Now you know how I feel. Well, felt, I guess.”
“I’m glad you ended up with me.”
I start slightly and look over at him. He’s lying on his back, shirtless, staring at the ceiling, one huge arm tucked behind his head.
“You are? I kind of figured you really regretted it by now.”
He shakes his head. “If we hadn’t met, I doubt Conti would’ve gotten the punishment he deserves.” He glances at me. “I burned down your old house. Sorry about that.”
“I hated that place anyway. Ugly carpets.”
He smiles and looks back at the ceiling. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately, asteraki mu. I don’t think you’ve been far from my mind for weeks now.”
“That’s ominous, but not surprising. I’m a delight.”
He turns and looks at me. “My father had a gold allergy.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Sorry, what? That’s a non sequitur.”
“That’s why he didn’t wear a wedding ring. He had a gold allergy, and instead of buying a ring made from a different material, he simply never wore one. I didn’t know until my mother told my recently.”
“I’m sensing a metaphor.”
His face tightens and he shakes his head. “I don’t want to be like my father, unable to admit to a weakness. I don’t want to live my life, unable to do a simple thing that would make the people I care about happy, all because of my fucked-up pride.”