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)
“Mmhmm.” Amusement threads through her voice. “Have you seen the best part yet?”
“What is it?”
“The library.” She gestures for me. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
When she leads me over to the corner of the room, I’m about to ask her if she’s lost her sense of direction. But then she pushes on a panel of the wall, and it slides open, revealing what is hands-down the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.
I step inside the observatory-style library, staring up at the domed glass overhead.
There’s a panoramic view of the night sky, a million glittering stars casting a soft glow over the room. For a minute, all I can do is take it in, wondering how I never knew this was a part of the estate.
“A reader’s paradise,” Mariella says. “Or in my brother’s case, a stargazer’s paradise.”
I can’t help but laugh at that remark. “That explains the telescope in his bedroom.”
“He knows all the constellations and the mythology behind them,” she explains. “If you ever want to learn about famous nebulae, aurora forecasts, or black holes, he’s your guy. He’s been fascinated with astronomy since we were kids.”
“I knew he was secretly a nerd,” I muse. “A very bossy, hot one…but still.”
“I’ll take your word on the last part.” Mariella crinkles her nose.
My eyes roam over the curved floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, noting that he’s made a good dent filling them. But one half of them appears to be intentionally empty, and I can only assume he reserved that space for his future wife.
Beneath the endless rows of books, there’s an oversized round cushion that takes up most of the room. It’s layered with blankets and throw pillows, and it looks too cozy to resist.
I flop down onto the cushion, staring up at the stars while Mariella joins me.
“This is magical,” I murmur.
“It’s pretty cool.” Mariella yawns.
The two of us settle in, letting the conversation slowly fade, until eventually we both drift off.
When I wake again, it’s to the low cadence of Cristian’s voice as he thanks Mariella and tells her goodnight.
I blink up at him through heavy-lidded eyes, relieved to see he’s okay.
“Did you find him?” I ask.
“No.” He closes the wall panel and comes to join me. “But we will.”
There’s an undercurrent of tension in his response that makes me wonder what he’s not telling me. But before I can ask, he assures me we’ll talk about everything tomorrow.
He settles in behind me, wrapping an arm around my waist as he pulls me close.
I’m not quite sure how it happens, but one minute I’m soaking up the warmth of his body, and the next, he’s fucking me like it might be the last time.
It isn’t long before I understand why.
27
CRISTIAN
“Cristian,” Chantel whimpers, tipping her head back against my shoulder as the hot water sluices over us.
“Sore, gattina?” I slide my fingers between her thighs, groaning when I feel my cum leaking out of her.
“If you fuck me one more time, I won’t be able to walk. And I definitely won’t be able to dance.”
A current of tension pulls at my muscles, and she doesn’t miss it.
“What’s going on with you?” She turns in my arms. “You still haven’t told me what happened last night, and you’ve been distracting me with sex.”
I let out a rough exhalation, bracing for the conversation I’ve been avoiding.
I can’t honorably say I’ve spent so much time inside her as a means of distraction. It was a selfish need to satiate this clawing hunger that’s already bordering on starvation, because I’m well aware there’s an inevitable cold front headed our way.
“We were able to salvage some things in your house.” I start with the good news. “Most of your bedroom survived.”
She swallows, glancing up at me nervously. “And the living room?”
“Everything’s gone.”
She closes her eyes as quiet devastation moves through her.
“I have your passports,” I add, getting that out of the way.
“What?” She blinks up at me in horror.
“They’re safe,” I assure her, leaving out the part that she won’t need them.
“How is that possible if everything else—” Her face pales. “You already had them.”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“Since we installed the security on your house.”
Silence lingers while she processes that, and as much as I want her to explain why she had them, I can already see that she won’t.
“The house manager is sorting through your clothes,” I tell her. “Anything that needs dry cleaning will be sent out, and the rest will be laundered before she puts it away.”
“What do you mean she’ll put it away?” Her brows draw together. “I can’t keep them here. I’ll have to find another place in the city, so I’m close to work—”
Her expression falters as she searches my eyes and concludes where this is heading.
“I told Viktor you’re taking a leave of absence.”
Her breathing shallows, and a visible tremor runs through her as she steps back, creating distance between us.