Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
For a moment, he simply stared as though I were a mirage, something he couldn’t trust to be real. Then he grabbed my cold hands in his warm ones, rubbing my skin back and forth with his thumbs, tears pooling in his eyes.
“Apricity.” His voice was fractured. “You’re never allowed to leave me for this long again.”
“How long have I been out?”
“Four days.”
He hadn’t showered in four days? Hadn’t left my side? Hadn’t brushed his teeth?
That was…adorable.
Unsanitary too.
“W-what happened to me?”
“Internal bleeding. They managed to stop it in time. Just about.” His jaw ticked, his gunmetal eyes darkening, and I knew exactly what was going through his head.
“No, Tate.” My fingers wrapped around his. “No more revenge. No more Callaghans. I beg you. I told you I’d leave. I meant it.” The mere thought of going through this vicious cycle again made me even more exhausted than I was, which seemed impossible. “I love you, Tate. More than I love myself. But never more than I’d love our children. I won’t stay with a vigilante who prioritizes his thirst for blood over his family.”
Tate buried his head in my lap, breathing me in with a groan.
“I was serious when I said I was done,” Tate clarified. “I promise you, my dealings with Tiernan Callaghan are over.”
“Can you give me your word?” I asked.
“I give you my word.”
“Then you’ll consider the next thing I need to ask you…”
It was a big ask, I knew. An ask that would change both our lives forever. Something so far out of his comfort zone, I never thought he’d agree to it. And still, I wanted it. For my safety. For his. For a fresh start and hope. For a chance at normalcy.
When I told him what it was, he didn’t even blink.
Didn’t even take a moment to think about it.
“I’ll do it, Gia, for you,” he promised. “Everything I do is for you.”
“Okay, am I gonna be the one to say it out loud?” Dylan looked up from her burrito bowl, sucking the straw of her skinny margarita. “Gia, you have no business looking this good three days after you woke up from a freaking coma after being kidnapped by Hottie McBadson and almost thrown off a cliff.”
Snorting, I covered my mouth to prevent myself from shooting refried beans directly into her lap.
“Did you just call my captor handsome?”
“What? I didn’t say he was nice or anything.” Dylan pouted. “And I’ve a feeling the Ferrantes are going to punish him. But objectively speaking, yes, Tiernan Callaghan is not a chore to look at.”
We were sitting at a small Mexican place in the Bronx, and it was the first time in a long time I didn’t have bodyguards hovering over my head. I could say whatever I wanted without feeling embarrassed. The feeling was almost akin to being reborn. I could totally be myself again.
When I insisted on meeting Cal and Dyl for brunch in public and without security, Tate had objected but later relented when I told him I was desperate to get my life back to normal.
“Normal went out the window the moment you married America’s most loathed human.” He had gestured at himself as I fastened my Tiffany earrings—my hospital discharge gift—after slipping into a lemon-patterned summer dress.
“Please, love. You’re not even in the top five.” I had rolled my eyes, smiling. “President Keaton? Cillian Fitzpatrick? Baron Spencer?” I named just a few of America’s favorite corporate and political villains.
“That makes me fourth. I’m definitely in the top five. And I don’t think Keaton is doing that bad. Forty-eight percent approval rating is better than most.” He made a scandalized face, alarmed at the prospect of not being positively loathed by the better half of this continent. “That’s top four for you. I earned that hatred fair and square. I might not be drilling every inch of the world for oil and fracking away entire ecosystems, but I’ll have you know I’ve fucked over plenty of hardworking fellas.”
I’d won that argument, and here I was with my friends, sipping cocktails, eating too many tortilla chips, and it all felt almost…normal. Like the good old days.
With the exception that during the good old days, I didn’t sport a 1.2-million-dollar diamond ring on my finger and didn’t have particularly exciting news to share that’d change my whole life.
“So…” Cal licked the rim of her skinny margarita, collecting coarse salt. “What did you want to tell us?”
“Please don’t let it be a surprise pregnancy.” Dylan held her hand up. “There are only so many tropes you can cram into your life these days, and villain-gets-the-girl is a hard act to follow.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Are you saying you won’t be happy for me if I’m pregnant?”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’d be thrilled,” she amended. “I’ll support you and be happy for you no matter what, but you have to admit this relationship progressed superfast.”