Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 110551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 553(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
I felt empty as I watched Dima set out for my father’s office. Last night, I’d allowed myself to imagine a future with Adamo. It had been blurry, with many variables, but I had been happy and free. If I stayed in Chicago, I’d never be either, not without Adamo, not as the Dinara that Dad wanted me to be.
Dima returned five minutes later. “He agreed, but he made it very clear that he’ll send men after Adamo if you aren’t back home tomorrow for lunch.”
“I’ll be back,” I said.
When Dima and I sat in Dad’s private jet for the second time that day, my stomach sank. Adamo deserved to be told the reason for breaking things off in person, but the idea of actually telling him, of being close to him for one last time, it split my heart in two. What if I couldn’t say goodbye?
Dinara’s message telling me she would be back soon raised my alarm and the moment Dinara showed up in camp early the next morning with Dima, I knew something was up. She looked exhausted and as if she was bracing herself for a battle.
I had barely slept the night. I hurried toward her, eager to clear things up. Dinara got out of the car but Dima didn’t. He stayed behind the steering wheel, looking stoic as usual. I grabbed Dinara and kissed her. For a moment she tensed but then she threw herself into the kiss, oozing despair and passion. I cupped the back of her head, pulling her even closer. It felt as if we hadn’t seen each other in forever.
Eventually Dinara jerked away and staggered a step back. Her cheeks were flushed. The dazed look in her eyes quickly morphed into apprehension, then determination. This wasn’t good.
“What’s wrong?” I murmured. We were a good distance away from Dima but the windows of the car were down and I didn’t want to risk him overhearing our conversation in case he was part of the reason for Dinara’s tension.
“Nothing,” she said quickly, but her voice proved her answer wrong.
“I didn’t think you’d be back in time for the race tonight. I worried it would take you days to convince your father you were safe here.”
She looked away briefly and when she met my gaze again, her walls had come up, locking me out of her mind and heart.
“Dinara,” I said imploringly, taking her hand. “Tell me what’s going on.”
Her eyes locked on mine then she pulled her hand away. “I didn’t return for the race tonight. I won’t race again. Racing was always only a means to an end, and so were you.” Her voice wavered when she said the latter.
“Liar,” I growled, stepping closer again. I wouldn’t allow her to put distance between us, not physically and not with words either. We’d gone through too much. We were both haunted by inner demons—demons only we could understand. Maybe we’d been born on different sides but fate had thrown us together because we were meant to be, because no one would ever see the world the way we did. “If I was only a means to an end, you wouldn’t be here right now. You would have left without an explanation or ditched me over the phone. But you are here, Dinara. Why?”
She held my gaze, trying to appear resolute and emotionless, but I’d seen every emotion in those green eyes and knew her too well to believe her charade.
“I simply thought you deserved to find out in person after everything you did for me. I’m not ungrateful, even if I used you for my purposes.”
I smirked. “You need to do better to convince me.”
Dinara glared. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not here to convince you, Adamo. I’m here to inform you about my decision. This is the last time you’ll see me. I won’t stay in camp, nor will we ever meet again. I belong in Chicago with my people.”
“Your people? The people that want you to dress up as a fake version of yourself? The people who only know one side of you, but not every aspect of yourself, not the dark parts only I got to see.”
Dinara reached into her pocket and took out a smoke. Her fingers were unsteady when she lit it up.
“I thought you wanted to stop?”
She shrugged. “It wouldn’t work.”
“The not-smoking or us?”
She took a deep drag and glanced at her boots. “Both.” She peered back up at me. “Listen, Adamo. This is a courtesy. I won’t explain my reasons. What we had was fun as long as it lasted but it was never meant to be forever. You have to accept my decision. But even if you don’t, it won’t change a thing. Dima and I’ll fly back to Chicago today and I’ll return to my old life, and so should you.”