Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
He makes to walk away, but Angelo stops him with a hand on his arm. “Have you met my wife, Sabella Edwards–Russo?”
“Oh. Yes.” The man turns to me with renewed interest. “Mrs. Russo.” He shakes my hand. “What a pleasure to meet you. I was a big admirer of your father. My condolences for your loss. I do miss his company.”
Tension creeps into my shoulders at the mention of my dad’s death, of his murder that was staged as a suicide. Angelo places a hand on my lower back as if sensing my turmoil. Does he think I’ll take comfort from the gesture?
“Thank you,” I say, fighting the urge to shove Angelo away. “I miss him too.”
The pressure of my husband’s palm increases on my flesh, but the smile he offers Mr. Powell doesn’t waver.
“I have no doubt he would’ve been here tonight if he was alive,” Mr. Powell says.
“My dad was always a big supporter of marine life conservation. I’m sure he would’ve donated handsomely.” I give Angelo a sweet smile. “But my husband will match your donation.”
Mr. Powell raises a brow. “Is that so?” He glances in Angelo’s direction.
“Of course,” Angelo says, meeting my smile with a tightlipped one.
“That business with the second family came as a shock.” Mr. Powell shakes his head. “Who would’ve thought?”
I stiffen to the point of feeling as if my spine is about to snap. Angelo rubs his palm over my back.
“Say, aren’t you studying marine biology?” Mr. Powell asks. “Your father was boasting about it the last time I saw him.”
“I was,” I say, trying hard not to let my smile falter.
“Was?” he exclaims. “Why on earth did you drop out? You should never be a quitter. Always finish what you start, no matter what it is.”
“Things changed when Sabella and I got married.” Angelo brushes his hand up my arm and over my shoulder to cup my nape in a possessive hold. “First of all, she moved to Corsica. Secondly, we’re hoping to start a family soon.”
I look at my husband quickly, heat pushing up in my neck. He has no right to flat out lie about something like that.
“Ah.” Mr. Powell frowns. “Well, it’s a pity. You’re still young. There’s plenty of time for a family. Then again, I suppose a good education doesn’t carry the same importance with everyone.”
Angelo’s fingers tighten on my neck. I clear my throat. The conversation isn’t going how it should. Instead of getting my husband in Mr. Powell’s good books, I’m only making the business tycoon’s opinion of Angelo worse.
“There you are,” a woman says, walking toward us with a big smile.
“This is my wife.” Mr. Powell looks at her adoringly. “Letitia, let me introduce you to Sabella and Angelo Russo. You remember Benjamin Edwards, don’t you?”
“Ben’s daughter,” she cries out, taking my hand. “I’m so happy to meet you.”
“Likewise,” I say.
“Sabella dropped out of school to have babies,” Mr. Powell says to his wife. “What do you think of that?”
She gives him a chiding look. “I think everyone must do what’s right for them.” Swatting his arm, she says, “Don’t be so judgmental, you old snob.”
Mr. Powell winks. “She keeps me on my toes. I wouldn’t be half the man I am without her.” Kissing her cheek, he asks, “Would you like a drink, darling? I was just about to get you something from the bar.”
“Allow me,” Angelo says.
“You’re too kind.” Mrs. Powell hooks her arm around her husband’s. “Gin and tonic, please. No ice.”
“Mr. Powell?” my husband asks.
“I’ll have what she’s having,” Mr. Powell says with a grin.
“Coming up.” Angelo plants a kiss on my neck before whispering in my ear, “I’ll be right back.” He deposits his empty glass on the nearest table and makes his way to the bar.
“He looks smitten with you,” Mrs. Powell says when he’s out of earshot.
“Oh.” I shift my weight, trying not to show how uncomfortable I am with that untruth. “I won’t say that.” Trying to change the subject, I say, “My husband told me you’re putting measures in place to prevent the entanglement of dolphins in fishing nets.”
“Indeed.” Mr. Powell rolls on the balls of his feet. “We launched a non-profit organization that provides acoustic pingers to fishing boats.” He shoots his wife a proud look. “In fact, it was Letitia’s idea. We’re also advocating against the use of gill nets, testing new materials as we speak.”
“I’d love to hear more.”
“Are you also a dolphin lover?” Mrs. Powell asks just as Angelo arrives with two drinks that he hands to the couple.
“I love all sea life, but I have a special affinity for sharks,” I say.
“You too?” Mrs. Powell exclaims. “So do I. They must be the most misunderstood poor creatures on Earth.”
“I always tried to educate the public whenever I could.”
“Did you manage to make a change?” she asks. “It’s difficult to expel the old urban legends.”