Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 24323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24323 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
That's just how the world works, I reflect absently to myself while looking at my wardrobe. Misery loves company, and most people have a tendency to feel better when they see others have it worse. It's just how the world works—-
"Not that one."
—-while what clearly isn't working at all is our building security, which has me clumsily spinning around and gaping at the sight of Keiran leaning against the doorframe like it’s the most natural thing in the world to be in my bedroom at 6 a.m. uninvited.
“H-How did you—-"
"I own this building."
What?
"And while we're being honest, I'm also the one behind DL Venture Capital."
No wonder my rent here is so unbelievably cheap.
And when I remember how I cried in relief after receiving DL Venture Capital's offer to bankroll my restaurant startup...
The blouse I'm clutching falls from my fingers, and I fall back down on the edge of my bed when my knees threaten to fold. I used to feel proud about finding a way to free myself from my parents' control and do things on my own. But am I really as independent as I thought I was...if Keiran had been pulling the strings from behind all along?
"Aren't you going to tell me I'm lying?"
I shake my head. Keiran doesn't lie. I had to learn that the hard way. But one thing I still don't understand?
"Why?" Why go through all those lengths to help me?
"Because you're my responsibility," he answers curtly.
He's basically saying he no longer loves me.
Right?
Questions race through my mind, but I'm scared to ask any of them.
Everything's happening so, so fast.
Just like before.
"Did you mean what you said last night?"
Please take me back.
My head jerks up at the question. "Yes." Because if there's one other thing I've learned from the past three years, it's how much I love him, and how that will never change.
"And are you willing to do anything to make it happen?"
"Yes."
"Then you can start by working for me—-"
As what?
"—if you want to earn me back." He walks to my wardrobe and skims through my clothes with a cursory glance. "This." A black pencil skirt. "And this." A pearly white silk blouse.
He lays the outfit he's selected on the bed then produces a garment bag I only notice just now. "Just bring this with you. I'll let you know when I need you to wear it." Keiran checks his watch, and I recognize the model since it's the one my father has always wanted...but never could afford. "You have fifteen minutes."
"Where are we—-"
"Fourteen now."
"But—-"
"Do you want me to help you shower?"
Yes!
Oh yes!
I mean, no....not yet?
Keiran
HIS CADENCE WAS STILL the same.
And he hated it.
He hated that he still thought of her as his.
Hated how she still made him feel all the things she used to make him feel...despite choosing her parents over him.
He had seen in her eyes how she had almost taken him up on his suggestion.
Almost.
And he hated that, too.
Why the hell did she still have no sense of self-preservation until now? She was always so damn honest. He just fucking wished she had it in her to realize that he was no liar either. Because they would still be together if she had, and then there would be no need for him to hate himself...the way he was hating himself now for still wanting her.
So fucking bad.
To the point that he just fucking couldn't make himself turn away the moment he realized she hadn't completely closed her bathroom door.
The tiny crack was enough to afford him a glimpse of her bare breasts as she undressed—-
Fuck.
And Keiran was harder than a rock in an instant. Harder than he'd been in the past three years actually, and he hated her for that as well.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He knew he should stop staring.
But he couldn't.
And the only reason he was finally able to turn away was when he felt his phone start buzzing in his pocket.
The message was from Giancarlo Marchetti, asking to meet with him.
Giancarlo was the eldest grandson of La Strega, the matriarch of the Marchettis, who was New England's most powerful famiglia.
More importantly than that, however...
Giancarlo was also Viktor Biancardi's former best friend.
And if rumors were to be believed—-
He was the last person to see Biancardi alive before his disappearance.
Cadence
KEIRAN'S CHAUFFEUR is an older man in his early sixties. He introduces himself cheerfully as Onesimus and tells me to ignore Keiran's bad mood while handing me my coffee with a grin.
Easier said than done, since the one and only time I saw Keiran this grim was that awful day my father had made me believe his lies.
We don't speak for the rest of the ride, which thankfully lasts only for ten minutes. We arrive at a huge construction site, and my eyes widen when I realize what's being built. A hotel? Is this what made Keiran impossibly wealthy in just three years? His carpentry business has somehow turned into a real estate empire?