Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105775 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Noah digs in, cutting a chunk of pancake off with a fork and shoving the big bite into his mouth.
I study Dante. “Do you have time now?”
“I wanted to have breakfast with Noah.”
And he just hijacked the hotel kitchen to do so. Surely, making pancakes could’ve waited until he got home.
Who am I kidding?
Dante has never waited for anything. If he wants something, he simply takes it.
Except for me, a voice says in the back of my head. For me, he waited. He waited until I was ready.
Ignoring those thoughts, I look at the chef. “How did you manage to arrange this? He doesn’t look happy.”
“I spoke to the hotel owner.”
The reach of his power still makes my head spin. “Just like that.”
He meets my gaze head-on. “Just like that.”
Unable to hold the intense look in his eyes, I lower mine, pretending to be occupied with eating.
It’s only when I’ve swallowed the first bite that I realize he’s still staring at me.
“What?” I wipe a finger over my lips. “Do I have something on my mouth?”
“No.” He follows the action of my finger with emotionless eyes, yet the amber color darkens to deep gold. “How’s the pancake?”
“Good,” I admit, smiling at Noah. “The two of you did a great job.”
Noah swallows with a bob of his head. “Yum. We did, Dante. They’re even better than the pancakes at the Pancake Stack.”
I frown at Dante, who’s not breaking eye contact with me.
“What?” I ask again. He’s making me even more uncomfortable than I already am.
He motions at the pancake on my plate. “You ate it.”
That’s when it hits me. He deceived me. Again. This was a ploy to get me to eat the food he’s made. It’s not as much about showing me that he won’t drug my drinks or meals than proving a point, which is that he’ll win again and again.
My appetite suddenly gone, I put down my fork.
“The pancakes are good.” Dante’s words hold a challenge. “You said so yourself. Go on and finish your breakfast. If you’re planning on working like yesterday, you’re going to need the energy.”
I want to get up and leave, but for Noah’s sake, I don’t. Why does everything Dante do always have to be about defeating me? Can’t I enjoy anything just for what it is without worrying about a hidden agenda? But no, Dante has never done anything for me without ulterior motives.
The bite I took pushes up in my throat. I think I’m going to be sick.
No longer able to stay put, I slip off the stool. My voice is shaky when I cup Noah’s face and kiss his forehead. “That was delicious, sweetheart. Thank you so much. Don’t forget to save some for Jazz. She’ll love them. I’m going to get ready for work.”
Noah continues to devour his pancake, completely focused on the task.
I barely look at Dante. “Thanks for breakfast.”
I don’t make it to the exit before he catches up with me. He grips my wrist and pulls me behind him through the swing doors. On the other side, he pushes my body against wall.
“You’re a bad loser, Tatiana.”
Biting hard on my lip, I blink away the tears building at the back of my eyes. “I hate you.”
He utters the same words of last night, cruelly reminding me of my weakness. “But you loved me once.”
Only then does it dawn on me. Yes, I loved him. I told him so on two occasions, and I remember each of them as if it happened yesterday. Every little detail is imprinted in my mind. Yet he never said those words back to me, and for some reason, the fact escaped me up to now. Maybe I’d been too infatuated back then. Maybe I thought it didn’t matter. But the realization slams into me now, knocking the air from my lungs.
Always seeming to read my mind, he delivers crueler words, still. “You loved enough for both of us. If you could do that once, you can do it again.”
I don’t think he’s aware of how those words carve into me like a blunt knife peeling off my skin.
I wrestle from his grasp, fighting like a wild animal until he lets me go. It takes enormous self-control to calm myself, to straighten my T-shirt, and to lift my chin. “I’ve been a fool for you once, Dante. I won’t be an idiot twice.”
Turning on my heel, I walk down the hallway, but I don’t escape his words that follow me. They shoot like sharp, poisonous darts into my back.
“I told you already. You can make this easy or hard on yourself. Being bitter about it is one thing, definitely not the easy way, but whatever you choose, don’t lie to yourself.”
I flip him off over my shoulder.
Ulysses leans on the wall next to the staff exit. He straightens when I near, his expression alarmed.