Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
I stare incredulously at him. Does he really think it’s going to be that easy?
"Whatever it is"—I throw my hand in the air, mimicking him—"I might need? I suppose you mean toothbrushes and underwear, not, like… oh, I don’t know… free will?”
He waves his hand at me in frustration, obviously done with my shenanigans. Asshole.
"You saw me murder someone. If the wrong people find out and get you in their grip, you’re dead, and you’ll likely suffer before they kill you. You are not safe. We did this marriage thing," he says, making a loop in the air as if including both of us, "to save both of our asses. So do me a favor. Don’t give me any shit and I’ll give you money, and we'll all just pretend to get along. Deal?"
I draw myself up to my full height, which is not that much, but still. I narrow my eyes at him.
"One thing you don't know about me is that I can disappear very, very easily. I don't need your protection. I could pick up and move and you would never find me again. So whatever delusion you're under about me needing your big scary presence to save me? It's wrong. I can take care of myself."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah."
And that, friends, is how I ended up on the side of the road wearing nothing but my dress.
CHAPTER FIVE
“I HATE HIM.”
Quinn
I hate him. I truly, truly hate him. I don’t hate the jerks in my past that mistreated me, or the bullies that treated me badly when I was a kid. I don’t even hate my mother for leaving me. But Adriano? I hate him.
I scream into the sky. It doesn’t answer.
But my freak-out only lasts a minute. That's the thing about me, I may lose my shit, but I get it back together real quick.
I look around and smile. It's a beautiful day out. I don't have some overbearing mafia asshole breathing down my neck anymore. Perfect. Eyeing my beautiful dress, I grimace a little bit. It’s a very nice dress. Fortunately, this is one of those sheath dresses with a detachable train.
So, the first thing to do is detach the train. I fold it up nicely and put it next to a pine tree. I'm now basically wearing a little white dress one might wear to a nightclub. I kick off my shoes, thankful to be barefoot. I love being barefoot. I whistle to myself as I walk down the road.
After about a mile, the damn limo comes back into view. The back window rolls down. I didn't even know you could roll down the back windows in limos. "So, you don't give up, do you?"
I pretend I don't hear him. I keep walking.
"Quinn, get in the damn car."
I don’t respond.
“I’m sorry, alright? Now get in.”
Well, that came quicker than I thought it would. I peer into the car at my asshole of a husband.
"Are you sorry for abandoning your newlywed wife on the side of the road?"
"I was trying to teach you a lesson.”
“Jesus, if you learned that method of apologizing to a woman from Sergio, I think you need to go back to school. Wait a minute. Did Sergio tell you to come get me?"
He looks away and doesn't respond.
"Oh, my God! He did. You came after me because Sergio found out that you ditched me. "
He grits his teeth and a muscle twitches in his jaw. “Get. In. The. Car. Now.”
My feet are tired. I'm hungry. I want some food and a good night’s sleep. So, I decide I am going to get in that car. And then I'm going to go to my honeymoon destination. And then I'm going to eat and sleep, all while stoically ignoring this jerk.
After I get in, he slams the door behind me. I don't meet his eyes, I just lay my head on the back of the seat and try to take a nap. Soon, the hum of the tires over the road lulls me into sleep.
When I wake, it's dark out. I blink, trying to remember where I am. The torn dress and glowering jerk next to me bring me back to reality fast.
There’s a blanket over me, which is surprising. And when my eyes adjust to the darkness, there’s Adriano, laying back with his arms across his chest and his eyes closed. I wonder…
"We're almost there." How did he even know I was awake with his eyes closed? Well, that's gonna be a pain in the ass.
"Where?"
"Our honeymoon destination."
Was he born grumpy as fuck, or did someone drop him on his head when he was a baby? Who hurt you?
I peer out the window but can’t see much in the dark until the clouds part, moonlight highlighting weather-hewn rocks that overlook an ocean. Ahead of us is some sort of hotel, or mansion.