Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Then I whirl around and immediately start for the stairs, and Prince is smart enough to stand aside. “I’m going to kill her,” I growl, knowing the words are empty but needing to vocalize them just the same. I’ve taken as much of her bullshit as I’m willing to take.
The door is already open, and Alicia stands in the center of the room, arms folded. Before I can draw a breath, she roars at me. “What was she doing here? How can you bring her here while I’m in the fucking house?”
I’m too surprised to do anything but gape at her. “What are you talking about?”
“That woman! She’s the one who was here before, isn’t she? I smelled her fucking perfume before I saw her.” She snorts, tossing her head. “Somebody should tell the bitch you’re not supposed to take a bath in it.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Did you let her kiss you this time?” Her eyes are blazing, and bright red spots color both cheeks. “Did you? Sorry I interrupted before you could do any more than that.”
I’m starting to get it—and while I’m still displeased, I’m not as furious. “Are you serious? This is about you being jealous?”
“Damn you! You do not get to laugh at me!”
“It’s ridiculous, though. Being jealous of her?” I look her up and down, curious. Is this the pregnancy hormones talking, or does she genuinely feel this way? When I think back, I remember she wasn’t pregnant the first time Rosa paid a visit but was just as pissy over it.
“I told you, I’m not…” Her chin quivers. “I’m not…”
Can she mean it? Does she care enough to feel jealous? I can’t imagine it, yet here she is, on the verge of tears. As much as I want to torment her after embarrassing me the way she did, there’s a much bigger part of me feeling otherwise. Like I might want to comfort her. Clear a few things up.
I don’t want to hurt her.
What the fuck is happening to me? This is the woman who lied more times than I can count. She made a fool out of me.
She’s the world to me.
“Did you look around the study? Did you see we weren’t alone?” I ask, quieter now. She shouldn’t get this upset in her condition, but I know better than to remind her of that to calm her down. She would do anything but calm down.
She blows out a disparaging sigh. “Yeah, she had those assholes with her.”
“And Prince. Prince was there.” Her head snaps back. “It’s true. You were too busy getting the wrong idea to notice. That was a business meeting. Rosa Martinez is head of another cartel, for fuck’s sake.”
Her eyes bulge. “A woman?” she whispers.
“Stranger things have happened.”
“I can’t think of many.”
I can. Such as how much I want to hold her and laugh over this. If we were any other couple, I might be able to do that. Just a misunderstanding, honey, no big deal. I even take a step toward her—then stop myself short when she flinches. I deserve that. I’ve given her no reason to think I’d do anything but hurt her now.
I couldn’t have fucked this up any worse if I tried.
“Why didn’t you tell me that before?” she murmurs, sinking until she’s sitting on the bed.
“I didn’t think I had to. It’s my business.”
“But I’m your wife. Why am I not allowed to know?” Her brows draw together. “And don’t tell me it isn’t done because there’s a chick leading a cartel out there. So not everybody is afraid of talking to women in your world.”
“Because…” I can’t remember why. I know there has to be a reason, but something in her shining, tear-filled eyes makes me forget everything I believed.
“Is it because you still don’t trust me? After I’ve done everything I can to show you I’m sorry? I set things up with Elena and dealt with her hanging all over you even though I wanted to scratch her goddamn eyes out—”
“Did you?”
“You know I did,” she snaps. “And if you don’t… I don’t know what to say. I thought I made it clear, but maybe I didn’t.”
“Made what clear?” I step in front of her, but she stares at my knees rather than look at me. “Tell me, Alicia. What did you think you made clear?”
The sound of her broken whimper goes straight to my chest, stirring an ache. “That I’m in this with you. For real. You can trust me. I’m your wife—and even if you don’t love me, maybe we can still at least build something together. I could be a good wife to you. I could be who you need me to be. I only need you to give me the chance.”
I don’t know what makes me think there’s more to it. The way she hesitated? How miserable she sounds? That could be genuine sadness. Why is it so difficult to believe her? Is it because I don’t want to? Why would she want that kind of life with me after everything I’ve put her through? All the things I’ve done to her?