Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69488 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 347(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“Daimon is…”
“Yes, I know Daimon is an asshole and there many who dislike him,” I said flatly.
“And yet you are here,” Mr. Cove said.
“Yes, I am here,” I murmured. “Just sit down with me and hear me out,” I said, pointing to the lobby couches.
“Fine. Five minutes that is all I will give you,” he bit out as he walked over to the couches and sat.
“Daimon…”
“Is a bastard,” Mr. Cove interrupted.
“Yes, I know,” I said dryly.
“How could you ever marry someone like him?” he asked.
“It’s complicated,” I shrugged.
“Why the violin? What do you need it for? I don’t want anything of mine to ever belong—”
“Daimon plays,” I said quietly.
“Daimon is a very sly and cunning businessman. He buys out everyone and doesn’t give a shit about anyone but himself; so do not try to fool me. He’s a dodgy bastard,” Mr. Cove said rather annoyed.
“I'm not lying to you. He plays and he plays well. I want this to be my gift to him.” I wanted to cry.
“I will not sell it to you. Do you have any idea how Daimon slithered his way into London? The cheeky bastard has taken nearly half my business!” he growled.
“I understand. I also know that your world, the business world, has nothing to do with me. This is my money and my gift,” I pleaded.
“A gift you want to give to the arse I hate the most,” he noted.
“Daimon can be difficult,” I said while I watched as Mr. Cove’s eyes bugged out. “Okay more than just difficult, but when he plays his violin, there is nothing that can compare to the haunting sound. It’s dark and powerful, sorrowful and at times, just so brilliant. It’s his sound. It’s him and I want him to have it back.”
A hot lump formed in my throat. Images of him playing were melding together with the sight of him breaking his Stradivarius into pieces. I could still hear him shouting. “IF YOU ARE NOT HERE WITH ME, I NO LONGER NEED ANYTHING! NOT MY MONEY! NOT MY MUISC! NOTHING!”
“Your five minutes are up, Mrs. Evans.” Mr. Cove stood up, straightened his jacket and headed out. My heart stopped and my belly ached from my nervousness as I watched him leaving.
I fished out my iPhone, my hands shaking as I pressed play. It was a recording I did while Daimon played. I played it every night I’d been apart from him, to help me sleep. Daimon’s sound was confident and arrogant as he played his melancholy notes. The raw power of his song was sinister and edgy. He was angry that night, something about a deal that had gone wrong. Mr. Cove stopped in his tracks and turned his head slightly to meet my gaze. I could hardly see him through my tear-filled eyes.
“This is my Daimon. Yes, he’s a bastard. Yes, he’s a prick. But I love him nonetheless, because deep down inside, this is the sound of Daimon’s soul. It’s controlling and powerful. It’s overbearing and domineering, but it’s also loving and loyal. I need that violin. I need it to give him back something that he gave me.” I cried gently, knowing why he needed control. Daimon was afraid to be abandoned, afraid to be hurt. He thought it best to be a fucking bastard than to be caring and attentive. That way he could protect his fragile soul.
“What did Daimon give you?” Mr. Cove asked as he walked over to me.
“Me,” I all but whispered. “He gave me, me. I was lost in a world I had built, and now I’m finally whole because of him.”
“So, this is how that fucking bastard plays?”
Dinner
“Oh, mon Dieu! Addie, how did you convince Mr. Cove?” Chantal asked as we were having dinner at the hotel. I loved listening to Chantal speak to me.
“I begged,” I murmured.
“Good girl, whatever you had to do. I’m glad you finally have your Stradivarius.” She smiled, sipping her wine.
“I'm glad you were able to find it for me,” I said as I picked at my salad.
“Chérie?”
“Yeah?” I asked, not paying any real attention.
“Are you not happy?” she asked.
“Why are you asking that?”
“Because you have been pushing your food around for the last ten minutes.” She pointed at my plate.
“I guess I'm just…nervous now,” I admitted.
“Nervous? Pourquoi?” Chantal looked at me as if I was crazy. “You just bought the violin n’est-ce pas?”
“Yes, but now I have to woman up, find my courage and step back into a world that is dominated by Daimon,” I said sheepishly.
“You did not want this?” Chantal stopped eating and sat there listening.
“I did…I mean I do. It’s just that I’m afraid. What if he doesn’t want me anymore? What if he found someone new? What if—”
“Arrête, Addie, he loves you. That I am sure,” she reassured, but my gut gnawed at me. I had signed divorce papers that said otherwise.