Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Christ. No.”
“You trusted me once. I haven’t done anything to deserve anything less than your trust now.”
I put my hands up. “All right. Enough. I’m getting a fucking headache.”
He knocks on my forehead. “It’s a sign I’m getting through that thick skull. We need to get ready. One more night. Then we can relax.”
“I want you to talk to Ana. Make sure she doesn’t go near Madelena. Understand?”
“Fine. She’s jealous of her. That’s all that is.”
“Why did you choose her? Of all the women available to you? You know they have history.”
He shrugs. “Like I said, she’s a piece of ass. She’s up for anything, available, and happens to be part of Avarice’s high society. Even if her family is broke, thanks to Marnix De Léon. Win. Win. Win. That’s all.”
I take a deep breath in. “I’m sorry, Caius.”
“For being a dick?”
“Fuck you.”
He ruffles my hair. “It’s okay, little brother. I have always known you were a dick.”
31
Madelena
“Are you so unaccustomed to being wanted?”
Shame burns inside me, and I am grateful to be alone. Santos sees me. He sees me like no one has ever seen me. It undoes me. I don’t know what to make of last night, of the strange moment we shared. When we made love. All I wanted was for him to see me, to want me, and to make me feel safe like only he can. But at the same time, I’m so angry.
Angry at him for making me feel so vulnerable. Angry at myself for allowing it.
I push off the chair and stare out of the window at the shadow the lighthouse always seems to cast. We flew back to Avarice earlier, and in a way, I am glad to be back. Familiarity, I suppose. Not home. This isn’t home, this luxurious apartment. I’m not sure the house I grew up in is home either, though.
Being away at school for those two years was in a way a blessing. Santos had no idea, of course, but not having the lighthouse hulking in the backdrop of my life provided a relief. Room to breathe. Yes, I missed Odin, but that space made it bearable.
The sun is setting. It will be time to go downstairs soon. Santos went to see his family. I’m dressed in another beautiful gown, this one a purple so deep it looks black. My hair is curled and flowing loose down my back. I didn’t want to have it up tonight. I was getting a headache from all the pins. At least, that’s what I told the hairdresser. The headache was from something else, though.
There’s a knock on my door.
“Come in.”
Val enters, carrying my suitcase. “Where should I put it?”
I point to the bed. “Here’s fine. Thanks.”
He sets it down and leaves. I open it immediately. I hurried to pack but didn’t have too many things. The dresses and shoes I wore to the events had been sent ahead and would be sent back separately.
I unpack the personal things I’d brought and carry my makeup bag into the bathroom. I open it, because I need to take my pill. That’s another thing. I feel like after last night, I trust him to keep his promise to give me the other two months’ worth.
But a quick search through the makeup bag where I know I’d left the little plastic compact has me coming up short.
“Madelena?” Santos calls from the bedroom.
I look through the bag again, taking things out. I know I put it in here. I have always kept it in here.
There’s a knock on the bathroom door, and Santos calls my name again.
“Just a second.”
It’s not here. Had Ana taken them when she’d gone through my things? Why would she, though? The last time I took it was the night before last. Maybe it’s in the suitcase.
Santos’s knuckles rap against the door and despite my best efforts, I feel a pull in my chest, the racing of my heart in anticipation. I open the door, and just as he seems taken aback by the sight of me, so am I with him. He’s dressed in a designer suit, the barely contained muscles of his arms and shoulders making my stomach flutter. His hair is casually slicked back, permanent five o’clock shadow trimmed to accentuate the steel cut of his jaw.
Time slows. I find myself biting my lower lip on a smile, feeling like a teenager with a crush. No. It’s so much more than that. I’m drawn to this man with an intensity that goes far beyond simple physical attraction.
“Are you so unaccustomed to being wanted?”
He wants me.
His eyes widen, then darken, as his gaze skims over me. “You look beautiful,” he says, holding out his hand.
“Did you take anything out of my bag?” I ask.
His gaze shifts away momentarily. “Why?”
“I’m missing my pills.”