Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92071 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 460(@200wpm)___ 368(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
It needed the sound of little voices and the pitter-patter of little feet running around. The moment the thought entered my head I came to a halt. What the hell was going on? Never in my life had I ever entertained the possibility of having babies with anyone. How had that thought just casually crossed through my mind as a desire?
Not that it was ever going to become a reality given the way Dante felt about me. If he had ever harboured any affection for me at all, I had killed it stone cold with the last stunt I pulled. I stood for a moment forlorn at the bottom of the steps, then I lifted my chin. He was mad at me at the moment, but his temper was sure to subside … eventually.
Armed with this hope, I headed into the kitchen.
The kitchen was deserted and I was about to turn around and walk out when the back door opened and Marie came in with a basket of fruits in her hand. For a second she seemed startled to see me, but quickly recovered and gave me a big, happy smile.
“Good morning. How wonderful it is to know that you are feeling better.”
“Good morning,” I replied and watched as she started to retrieve a bunch of strawberries from the basket.
She washed one and offered it to me. “I’m truly glad to see that you haven’t been harmed.”
I accepted it. “Thanks. Has Dante eaten?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No, not yet, but I made chicken soup, my grandmother’s old recipe. I hope it will help nourish and bring some strength back to him and you too.”
“He’s awake,” I said. “Maybe I can take it to him?”
She smiled. “Alright. Let me warm it up.”
Less than ten minutes later, I was headed up to his room with a tray of food. He was seated in bed, and working on his laptop.
He closed his laptop and watched me as I brought the tray over to the coffee table. I hated how emotionless and detached he seemed, but at least he didn’t order me out.
“You brought me a meal?”
I smiled. “Yeah. It’s humble pie, but shaped like chicken soup.”
He didn’t smile and I felt a little part of me die. My little joke had not gone down well. He had not forgiven me. An awkward silence fell between us. I knew I deserved the cold treatment and had no right to complain, but he had no idea how much it hurt to be treated as if I was now a stranger to him.
I was trying to tread carefully, I knew I was literally on eggshells, but it seemed as though every time I opened my mouth, I simply made things worse.
I wanted to explain myself, but then I realized it was not about me feeling bad it was about him. He needed to recover. He needed time. I had simply come here to deliver his food and the last thing I wanted to do was give him trouble. I gave him a smile and started to walk out of the room. Just as I turned the doorknob, he stopped me.
“Have you eaten?” he asked, and my heart fluttered.
“No, but Marie has made some soup for me too,” I replied.
He nodded, and I exited the room.
The moment I shut the door, I felt tears fill my eyes because it seemed as if he truly just didn’t want anything to do with me anymore. The best course of action was probably to step away but after a few minutes passed, I found that I couldn’t. I turned around and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” he called.
“I just wanted to say that if you need anything, anything at all, just let me know. You can always call out to me and I’ll get it done for you.”
“Until you decide to run away again,” he said softly.
I shut my eyes in guilt. Then I mustered up the courage to face him once again. “I know I was wrong to take matters into my own hands. I didn’t intend for anyone to get hurt. I was trying to protect you. I’ll never do that again. Please don’t hate me.”
His expression didn't change. “You were trying to protect me?”
“Yes.”
He frowned. “How?”
“I thought they may try to punish you for kidnapping me.”
“So … you thought that was a good idea to leave my protection and hand yourself on a silver platter to Ugo?”
“I still don't understand what happened yesterday. Things spiraled out of control. I thought Sarah was the dirty cop, I never imagined Detective Mellor would do that to me.”
“Let’s get something straight here,” he said. “It is very kind of you and I thank you very much, but it is not your job to protect me. Please don’t ever do it again. The authorities can pin whatever they want on me, but like I have explained to you before, this is my territory. I’ve been involved with the law and the mafia since I was a child. So when I make decisions, even when they don’t seem right to you, I would appreciate it if you don’t go out of your way to oppose them even if it was with the intention of trying to help me. Because you will just make things a hundred times worse.”