Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 143870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 480(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 143870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 719(@200wpm)___ 575(@250wpm)___ 480(@300wpm)
Marco has said and done some stupid things before, but most of it was harmless. He’s never called me names, and he’s never looked at me the way he is right now. After his standoff with Cristian, he wants to stake his claim on me, whether I like it or not.
I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or if he’s just become a completely different person, but I don’t even recognize him anymore.
Either way, I want nothing to do with it.
“Let me go.” I steel my voice, even though my heart is racing.
“You’re not walking away from me,” he bites out. “You fucking started this.”
“I didn’t start anything, and I don’t want to have this conversation right now.”
“You were so desperate for some attention a few minutes ago,” he sneers. “Let’s go upstairs, and I’ll give you some.”
There’s no mistaking the implication of his words or the bruising grip on my arm. He wants me to pay for this perceived slight, and I can only assume this is a result of his increasingly fragile ego. Regardless, he won’t be taking it out on me.
“Marco, you’re hurting me,” I say, loud enough for his friends to hear. “Let me go.”
“You owe me this,” he hisses in my ear. “I haven’t touched you in months.”
“I don’t owe you anything, asshole.” I shove at him. “Leave me the hell alone.”
He grabs my face and forces me to look at him, and for a split second, I think he might actually hit me.
“Marco, come on, bro.” One of his friends intervenes. “You’ve had too much to drink. Just let her go. Everyone’s watching.”
Unsurprisingly, that last part is the thing that gets through to him. Because at the end of the day, what Marco cares about most is how people perceive him. And when I glance around, I realize his friend is right. Everyone is watching, including Isobel. She looks pissed, and the only reason she’s not over here already is because Libby is holding her back.
When Marco finally releases me, it feels like everyone takes a collective breath. They might not like me, but even for them, Marco’s behavior right now is a step too far.
I scrap any thoughts of telling him it’s over because I’m not putting myself at further risk right now. But as I try to leave, he follows me.
“Chantel,” he mutters under his breath. “I’m sorry. Let’s just go up to my room and talk.”
“You’re insane if you think I’m going anywhere with you.”
“Just stay the night,” he bargains. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other.”
Despite my best efforts, a laugh escapes me. “Five minutes ago, you forgot I even existed. I think it’s best we keep it that way.”
“You just need some time to cool off,” he grits out. “Why don’t you go to the guest room, and I’ll come up when the party’s over.”
“The party is over for me,” I tell him. “Stop following me and let me leave, or I’ll really make a scene.”
Finally, that threat gets through to him, and he backs off. But when he realizes how many people are still watching, he makes one last attempt at keeping up appearances.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, babe.”
I don’t respond, and I breathe a sigh of relief as I make my way toward the door. I just want to get the hell out of here. But as the guests clear a path for my exit, I can’t help noticing a shift in the way they’re looking at me.
I expected some smirks on the way out, or maybe even some pitiful glances. But that isn’t what I’m seeing.
As I make eye contact with some of them, they nod as if they’re actually acknowledging my existence. It’s not exactly respect, but it’s definitely not the disdain I’m used to either. It’s more like they’re now conscious of the fact that I’m not a free target for their judgment anymore.
I swallow past the knot in my throat as it occurs to me that the man who chose to make that clear wasn’t even my boyfriend.
It was Cristian.
2
CRISTIAN
“Can I get you anything, Mr. Vitale?”
The doorman eyes me with a wary expression as I lean against the exterior of the house and pull out a piece of gum. My presence seems to unsettle him, which isn’t a surprise. I have that effect on people, and he’s probably wondering why the fuck I’m lurking outside.
That makes two of us.
“No.” I tip my head back against the brick wall, loosening the tie around my throat as I breathe in the cold evening air.
He doesn’t say anything else, and I check the time on my watch. It’s just after nine, and I have no interest in dealing with Marco or any other headaches.
Restless energy has been building inside me all night, and when I get like this, distance and distraction are the only things that work.