Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128356 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
The bedroom is even more extravagant, draped in soft, rich fabrics and subtle gold accents that glimmer under dim lighting.
Beyond the bedroom, the balcony stretches into a massive terrace, offering an uninterrupted view of Graystone Ridge’s skyline.
From up here, the town is breathtaking—a sprawl of glittering lights, the sky vast and endless in a way I’ve never seen before.
It should feel freeing and beautiful.
But as I slip into the oversized bed, journal and pen in hand, all I feel is discomfort.
The sheets are too soft, the silence too heavy, the air too still.
Because, no matter how stunning this place is, I don’t want to get used to it.
It’s not mine.
And I’d trade it for my old life with Dahlia in a heartbeat.
My eyes skim over the lines I wrote a couple of days ago.
I saw him today. Jude.
It was the first time I’ve seen him since I woke up.
All this time, I’ve waited for him to barge in uninvited and I’ve been…on edge. No, I’ve been hopeful?
I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the way he completely ignored me.
It was the first time I’ve truly felt that I actually spent months sleeping.
The world moved on, and so did he. Which is good. Right?
I slam the journal closed, frowning. Why the hell would I be this bothered by that encounter?
The look in his eye.
The way he seemed mad?
I’m the one who’s supposed to be mad, especially after the attempted murder thing. Well, I don’t know about that, really. I never believed Julian a hundred percent, because I feel like if Jude wanted to kill me, he’d make it personal.
I also like to think he wouldn’t hurt Mario like that.
But then again, my name was on his damn list, so…
I open my journal again and scribble a few other notes about the strange erotic dreams I’ve been having since that encounter and how a part of me wants them to come true even if the other part is ashamed I’m even having these thoughts.
The man in my dreams has a name, but I don’t write it.
I can’t make it real.
After I finish scribbling down everything muddying my brain, I pause upon seeing rivulets of water sliding down the bedroom window.
I check the time and frown. The Vipers’ game Dahlia went to see is ending soon, and she didn’t take an umbrella, no matter how many times I’ve told her to.
With a sigh, I put the journal on the nightstand and put on a hoodie and jeans, choosing to forgo the glasses because they’d fog up.
Armed with two umbrellas, I take a taxi to Vipers Arena.
I arrive when the masses are exiting the arena. Crowds of people head to their cars or run in the rain. Some have umbrellas, but most of them hide by the building overlooking the parking lot.
But apparently, the Vipers won, considering all the excited commentary.
“Callahan was a beast.”
“I swear I get so fucking excited whenever he checks someone.”
“And the way he fights? Fucking awesome!”
Callahan this and Callahan that.
Yes, some others praise Preston and Kane, but most people seem to have a boner for Jude. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to understand hockey, because why is a notoriously violent player everyone’s favorite?
It takes me a while to slip through all the fans and stand on an empty corner, holding one of the umbrellas over my head. I text Dahlia.
Me
You forgot your umbrella, Dahl. It’s raining. I’m in the arena’s parking lot near Kane’s car. Come pick it up.
Dahlia
Aw, thanks, Vi. You didn’t have to.
Of course I did. I don’t want you to catch a cold.
On my way.
The moment I look up, I nearly drop the phone.
I’m holding the umbrella so low, I can only see sneakers, jeans, and the hem of a leather jacket. But I know it’s him, even before I tilt the umbrella up, watching the rain cascade down.
Jude stands in front of me, fully drenched, absolutely unconcerned about the rain that beats down on him. His hair is glued to his temples and his face is tight.
Too tight.
“What are you doing here, Violet?”
I pause because his voice sounds rougher, deeper. I wish I didn’t recognize that, and I wish my heart wasn’t beating so damn loudly right now.
“That’s none of your business.” I turn and start walking.
I don’t know where I’m going or why I’m running away from him.
Maybe it’s because a part of me felt a crushing weight lift off my chest upon seeing him.
Maybe it’s because, really, I knew Kane could have an umbrella and Dahlia wouldn’t have been walking in the rain, but I still chose to come here anyway.
Whatever it is, I realize I don’t truly want to face Jude right now.
A large hand grasps my wrist and spins me around. The umbrella falls from my grip and hits the ground as Jude slams me against the wall.