Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 118965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“Oh no. I’m so sorry. Did you try to explain?”
“She wouldn’t give me a chance.” He meets my gaze. “She’s locked herself in her room and refused to come out for dinner.”
“What about the boys?”
“I took them aside and told them. I didn’t want them to find out from Sophie.”
Laying a hand on his arm, I ask, “How are they taking it?”
“More or less apathetic. I don’t think they were close. Guillaume asked if they’re in heaven.”
“What did you say?”
“That I hoped so. Étienne asked if we had to go back to the valley for another funeral. He didn’t seem to look forward to the prospect. Johan took the news rather stoically. I told Heidi to give them an early supper. I couldn’t let them sit through dinner in the dining room after telling them their parents are dead.”
My heart aches for them. “Did they ask how they died?”
“Only Johan. I wasn’t going to tell him, but I couldn’t bring myself to lie to him. I promised myself I wouldn’t betray their trust. So I took him into my study and told him that they were shot and that the bullet shells matched the old man’s shotgun.”
“Poor Johan. Is he all right?”
“He didn’t say much, but he didn’t seem surprised.” His gaze darkens. “He’s been no stranger to violence.”
“I’m sorry you had to do that alone.”
“It couldn’t be helped.” He cups my hand where it rests on his forearm. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to tell Sophie myself.”
“Maybe she’ll talk to me.”
His smile is soft. “You need to rest and get better.”
“This may come as a shock to you, but I can do that and speak to Sophie.”
A playful light sparks in his eyes. “Now don’t get wise with me.”
His strong frame fills the chair, making it look small. Underneath the shirt that’s unbuttoned to the third buttonhole, his chiseled chest is visible. The dark ink on his skin is an accurate picture of what lurks beneath the surface. Like the two-headed wolf, he carries his duality inside him. He’s a beautiful god and an invincible demon. Yet, this powerful man needs me. He needs me to navigate this new life we both chose freely, and he’s not afraid of showing me.
Using one of his favorite lines, I say, “Your food is getting cold. You better eat. I’ll speak to Sophie later.”
Flashing me a grateful smile, he takes my hand and presses a kiss on my knuckles. “I don’t deserve you.”
“But you’re working on that,” I remind him. “And you’re not doing too badly so far.”
When he leans closer, the familiar fragrance of citrus and cedar washes over me. His male scent envelopes me, giving me an unexpected sense of belonging.
Not that I belong to him, but that he belongs to me.
Because despite the marks of ownership he put on my body, he’s always been mine.
Right from the start.
I may not have realized it as clearly as I do now because Angelo’s possessive masculinity can be so overbearing that it dominates every other sentiment. But in this moment, I know it with startling clarity just as I know he’ll always be mine. No matter what happens, Angelo will never let me go. He’ll never leave me or look twice at another woman. He’ll stand by my side like he vowed to do from the onset. He’s not the kind of man who breaks his promises. I know it with a certainty that comes from my heart.
And when he presses his lips in the gentlest of kisses against mine, I feel safe and protected. For the first time since my life was turned upside down by all the secrets and lies that Dad’s death uncovered, I feel that I belong.
Chapter
Thirty-Five
Sabella
* * *
The morning breaks sunny and fresh. Light streams through the sliding doors. I left them open a crack so that I could smell the sea. The fragrance of honeysuckle drifts in with the salty air. Birds chirp in the garden. A seagull calls from farther away. The season has changed from winter to spring.
I lie still for a moment, experiencing the sounds and the smells. The warmth of Angelo’s body that’s curved against mine. The weight of his arms around my waist. I savor every impression of my senses like a person who came back from the dead, appreciating the simple but profound luxuries. The luxury of waking up on a beautiful morning in the arms of a man who cares about me. A man who needs me. Who appreciates and respects me. I see it in his eyes when he looks at me. I see it in how hard he tries to make up for the things that went so wrong.
Life is too precious to dwell on the bad and negative experiences. I learned that from the kids. Despite how hard their short lives had been, they never complained. They fought and survived. They have such a simple way of looking at life. Perhaps that’s the secret of being happy. Not to overcomplicate things. To just appreciate every moment, because each second is a gift.