Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Relief begins to flood through me. I knew there was a logical reason.
“She’s the General Manager of…” He pauses.
“Of what?”
“Our high-end brothels.”
“She’s a Madam?” I whisper. “You’re spending time with a whore?”
He clenches his jaw, angered by my outburst.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” I snap. “Why did I have to see you in the street with another woman?”
He stands and goes to the window to stare down at the street below. He puts his hands in his suit pockets. “We needed to talk about this, anyway,” he says calmly. “I have been waiting for the right moment to bring it up and this is as good a time as any. I want to get you your own apartment. Pick somewhere, anywhere, and I will buy it for you.”
I stare at him. He’s different, detached and calculating. Or maybe that’s just because my rose-tinted glasses have been smashed to smithereens and I’m seeing the real him for the first time.
He owns brothels.
“You don’t need to work for Valentino. You can have your own fashion label. I’ll back you financially. Anything you want is yours. No budget. You can have everything.”
“Where will you live?” I ask.
He stares at me, but stays silent.
“Will you live with me?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
He inhales sharply. “We cannot be in a relationship in a traditional sense, Olivia.”
My brows rise.
“I have…” He pauses, searching for the right words. “More than ever, I need to hold onto my Italian heritage.”
My skin begins to crawl.
“I am not just a man who lives in Italy, Olivia. I am an Italian man in all senses. I need to carry on my traditional bloodline. It is very, very important to me—non-negotiable.”
What?
We stare at each other. “This is why you didn’t come for me in Australia?”
He clenches his jaw. “Yes.”
I can literally hear my heart as it breaks.
“What you’re saying is that you can fuck an Australian… but you can’t marry one?” I whisper as tears form.
His cold eyes hold mine. “I’m sorry.”
“So, you’ll have your Italian wife and keep your bloodline with her, and I will be your girlfriend on the side?”
He drops his head, ashamed of what he has asked of me.
My throat hurts as I try to hold it together. If he hit me with an axe it would be less painful. I grab the table to steady myself.
“Olivia,” he whispers. “Think about it. You will have me in every sense other than marriage. I will be yours.” He cups my face in his hand. “I don’t want to lose you.” His eyes are crazy, panicked. “I can’t lose you.”
“You just did.” I push out through gritted teeth.
“No, bella.” He grabs for me, and he holds me tight in his arms as I struggle to break free.
“Get out.”
He holds me. “No, no, no. Per favore, no. Non posso perderti,” he whispers as he clings to me, desperate to hold me in place so that he can talk me into this. “Non posso vivere senza di te.”
I know he’s losing control because he’s talking Italian. He only does that when he can’t think.
I break free from his grip and push him hard on the chest. He stumbles back.
“Get out,” I sneer.
“I’m not leaving you. I can’t. Don’t ask that of me.”
I pick up a glass from the table and hurl it at him. “Get the fuck out!” I scream.
His eyes hold mine for an extended moment, and then, as if conceding defeat, he drops his head.
I turn my back on him as my tears begin to pour free.
I’ve never felt so fucking cheap in all of my life. Here I was thinking we were falling in love, and he was just lining me up to fuck me behind his future wife’s back.
The only sound is my heartbeat as adrenaline courses through my veins, trying desperately to calm me down.
Thump, thump, thump.
Eventually, I hear the door click closed as he leaves.
I turn and see a white business card on the table.
Enrico Ferrara
02- 99889002
His number… in case I change my mind.
I already have your number, asshole.
I slide down the wall and sit hunched up on the floor as I cry out loud.
What the fuck just happened?
Enrico
I lean my forehead against Olivia’s door, the palms of my hands flat against it.
I can hear her crying. I just shattered any dreams she had of a future with me. Any dream that I ever had, too.
Everything she thought I was no longer exists. I knew she wouldn’t go for the arrangement, but I had to at least try.
If only things were different.
Her sobs are loud, and my chest constricts at the sound. I hate that I disappointed her.
“Bella,” I whisper as her cries escalate.
I can’t stand it. I can’t stand listening to her being hurt and alone. I grab the door handle to go back inside her room. I can’t leave her like this.