Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 84219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
He moves fast, and before I can even think about backing away, his fingers wrap around my throat. With his face an inch away from mine, he says, “You’re mine, Samantha. I will do everything in my power to keep you from leaving me.”
He doesn’t hurt me, and seeing the flare of panic in his eyes, I realize he means every word.
His palm moves up to my jaw, and his expression softens as he whispers, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Give me a chance to prove I’m the man you fell in love with.” He tilts his head and gives me a pleading look. “Please.”
“I have to think about everything,” I say. My tongue darts out to wet my lips before I continue, “I can’t just magically change how I feel.”
He stares at me for a moment, and I see this is difficult for him as well.
“Do you have any questions you want to ask me?”
I shake my head. “I’m not ready to talk.”
“You can call me anytime,” he says. “Or just message me.”
An incredulous chuckle ripples over my lips. “Yeah? On which phone?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Right.
“I’m going home.”
I turn around, and walking out of the bedroom, I head to the staircase.
I hear him behind me, then he says, “I’ll take you home.”
“No.” I rush down the stairs, just wanting to get out of this mansion.
“Samantha.” His tone is harsher. “This is not up for discussion. I’m taking you home.”
The moment I dart into the foyer, Mr. Vitale grabs me by my forearm, and I’m dragged through the living room and out onto the veranda.
“You’re insufferable!” I snap at him.
“And you’re stubborn.” He opens the passenger door. “We make a great pair.”
“Like hell, we do,” I mumble before climbing into the G-Wagon.
I pull the safety belt over my chest and clip it in place before I cross my arms over my chest.
When Mr. Vitale slides in behind the steering wheel, I turn my face away from him and stare at the mansion.
The drive to my apartment is filled with tension, and when he parks the G-Wagon in front of my building, he says, “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
I shove the door open. “Only because I don’t have a choice in the matter.”
Getting out, I slam the door shut, and without a backward glance, I walk into the building.
When I lock my front door behind me, my body begins to tremble. I rush to my bedroom and strip out of the stupid dress I wore for him.
Immense anger and heartache rip through me, and sitting on the floor with my back against the bed, I pull my knees up and wrap my arms around them. I bury my face in the crook of my arm and cry my eyes out.
Just as I thought I found a good man, he turns out to be my boss. And a freaking mob boss.
Why does it keep happening to me?
Chapter 29
Franco
I didn’t close an eye last night.
I kept replaying everything in my mind, wondering if there was a better way to handle the situation.
As the elevator doors slide open, my heart pounds in my chest.
I don’t know what I’ll do if Samantha’s not here.
I walk down the hallway, and as her desk comes into view, I let out a sigh of relief.
Thank fuck.
“Morning, Samantha,” I say, my tone soft.
She doesn’t stop typing and keeps her eyes locked on the screen. “Morning, Mr. Vitale.”
Her features are tight, and from the dark circles beneath her eyes, it’s clear she didn’t get any rest last night either.
“Can you come to my office?”
She doesn’t stop working. “Is that a question or order, sir?”
“It’s a question.”
“Then the answer is no.”
I have to suppress the urge to drag her to my office and instead ask, “How are you holding up?”
“I’m fine, Mr. Vitale.”
The printer starts working, and Samantha gets up from her chair. Instead of giving me a wide berth, she pushes me out of the way and begins sorting the papers into piles.
I can feel the anger come off her in waves and brace myself for one hell of a day as I walk to my office.
Shrugging my jacket off, I drape it over the back of my chair. I take a seat at my desk, and reaching for the cup of coffee Samantha placed on my desk, I take a sip.
When I turn my computer on and open my emails, I notice from the timestamp on the first email that Samantha’s been at work since six thirty.
I let out a sigh as I pull both the cellphones out of my pocket, setting them on the desk.
There’s a knock at the door, and before I can answer, Samantha comes in.
She places a stack of documents on my desk. “I need you to sign everything before you leave the office.”