Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
“That’s what I thought,” he adds, before strolling toward the spot next to Lorenzo and then plopping down into the chair.
A member of the staff glides in, eyes down, hands steady, and sets a plate in front of me. I want to tell the young woman, I’m not like Lorenzo. She can make eye contact, and I won’t bite, but she’s already turned her back to me.
I can’t even identify what’s being served, but man, it smells good. My stomach growls. My lack of food today is now showing its face. In my defense, I couldn’t eat.
One: I didn’t want to bump into Lorenzo.
Two: Actually, it was just number one. I didn’t want to see him. Even now, I don’t want. But I wasn’t given a choice.
The air in this room feels heavy, and an awkward silence fills the space.
Lorenzo lifts his glass first. “To new beginnings.” He swirls the wine.
Rafe clears his throat and raises his own glass. “To . . . health.”
Why didn’t he mention me? Or our marriage? And then I remember what he said at my parents’ house . . .
The marriage is a secret.
Maybe it has to do with Lorenzo’s uncle, the man who sits on the family throne . . . Maybe if he found out, he would kill me? Shit. Is that it?
Maybe he sees marriage to me as a liability, a weakness.
Which means for the time being, or maybe forever, I’ll be the sin Lorenzo committed in secret.
I don’t toast back. I stare at my plate and then stab a piece of lettuce.
Lorenzo watches me, like he always does.
The silence stretches for so long that it starts to feel intentional.
The bastard is waiting for me to break first.
I try to refuse on principle, but eventually I crack.
“Is dinner always like this?” I scrap the edge of my plate with my fork.
“Like what?” Rafe leans forward, clearly excited for whatever answer I’m about to give.
“A riveting bundle of joy.”
Lorenzo tilts his head. “Careful, Little Bird.” His voice is as smooth as silk. “You keep talking like that, and I’ll start thinking you missed me.”
“Yeah. No. Can’t say that I’d ever miss this version of you . . . You know the version who probably carves people up in his spare time.”
His mouth curves, and while he might look handsome, the smile is also lethal. “You always had a talent for melodrama.”
I lean forward just slightly because if I sit back, I’ll look smaller, and I refuse to be small in front of him. “And you always had a talent for pretending you aren’t the problem.”
Rafe shifts, flicking his gaze between us like he’s watching a tennis match.
Lorenzo sets his glass down with a soft clink. The sound is delicate, the threat beneath it is not.
“Look at you”—he folds his hands like a man about to sign paperwork—“trying so hard to pretend you’re not terrified.”
“I’m not terrified.”
Lie.
Huge lie.
Enormous lie.
He nods toward my hands without moving anything but his eyes. “Then why are you gripping your fork like you plan to stab me with it?”
“Cause I do.”
Rafe actually snorts.
Lorenzo’s brow lifts, amused. “Don’t stop on my behalf.”
“Please stab him,” Rafe adds.
“Ugh. You’re so annoying.” I glare across the table, then look at Rafe next. “You too.”
“What did I do?” Rafe asks, shaking his head. “I think I miss when you were single,” Rafe says to Lorenzo.
Lorenzo doesn’t even look at him.
I push food around my plate, refusing to give him the satisfaction of me eating. After a second, I realize that’s exactly what he wants, and that doesn’t sit well with me. There’s no way that he deserves the satisfaction of my not eating. Eventually, I compromise by taking one bite.
Lorenzo eats with a maddening calmness. Every movement is controlled. He looks like he’s about to perform surgery. If he’s going to be so miserable in my company, why doesn’t he invite someone more entertaining over?
Halfway through the meal, the truth lands in me.
He can’t.
This dinner isn’t small because he wants romance. He kept it small because secrecy is survival.
The whole secret marriage thing.
I’m going to need to figure out why. Maybe I can use it to my advantage. Knowledge is power, after all.
After a few more minutes, Lorenzo finally stands.
My spine goes stiff when he moves closer to me, and I’m practically shaking when he steps behind my chair.
Lorenzo lowers his mouth to my ear. “I like the act. But both of us know none of it’s true.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about, and I open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off before I can.
“Meet me in ten minutes in my study,” he says to Rafe, who nods, and then Rafe stands up from his chair and heads out of the room.
The door closes behind him, leaving Lorenzo and me alone.