Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 652(@200wpm)___ 522(@250wpm)___ 435(@300wpm)
I didn’t know why I’d told them this. Maybe I needed to verbalize it to myself.
Oliver swung his keys around his finger. “I’ll drive her to the hospital.”
Zach nodded. “And I’ll hunt down Jared, bring him to the police, and catch them up to speed on Madison’s bullshit.”
Maybe they were doing it for my sake, but their utter calmness almost made me forget the last time I’d held Romeo. He was as cold as the marble floor in the ballroom where we first met.
“He’ll be okay, won’t he?” I clutched Zach’s lapels. I had a feeling Oliver’s tongue could not be trusted, be it with his words or the pleasure he brought on women.
Zach looked away, ushering me out of the room by the small of my back. “Let’s go.”
I turned, staring at the spot I’d last held Romeo. I’d never realized it before. That marriage is a mirror, showing you exactly where your empty parts are before it fills them up. And if Romeo left me, I’d be forever empty.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Dallas
I didn’t leave his hospital bedside.
Not to eat. Not to drink. Not to shower.
Frankie, Momma, and Monica rushed to my side as soon as the news broke. They took turns bringing me food and clean clothes but could only ever persuade me to take bathroom breaks. Even then, I went about my business quickly.
Days ate at each other. Time was not my friend, slipping between my fingers like quicksand. One minute, I was ecstatic that Romeo was not dead, that his heart still beat, that he’d soldiered through, fighting for each breath. The other, I crumbled in complete despair. He wasn’t getting better. He existed as a glorious statue. Still but beautiful.
The revolving door never ended. Zach. Oliver. Mrs. Sun. Cara. Monica. Senior. Momma. Frankie. Hundreds of flower arrangements and food offerings arrived every day from colleagues and friends. I donated them all. They made it feel like Romeo was no longer alive. The very thought made me want to hurl myself out the window.
On the fourth day of Romeo’s medically induced coma, his lawyer waltzed in, along with Senior. Jasper Hayward. I recognized him from the day I’d signed a prenup.
My spine snapped straight. I wiped away the tears and cobwebs from my eyes. “What are you doing here?” I shot to my feet, looking between the men. “There is no reason for you to pay him a visit. There is no change in his condition, and the doctors haven’t discussed taking him off life support, so there’s absolutely no way—”
“Dallas.” Senior put a hand on my shoulder. I jerked away, stepping back. “Don’t worry so much. Mr. Hayward is here to go over some documents. That’s all.”
Documents, my butt. I trusted Jasper Hayward like I trusted the pull-out method as contraception. And I trusted Senior even less. I’d seen the leaked video from the shareholders meeting. As soon as Romeo left the room to save me, his father had followed through on his threat and announced Bruce as his replacement.
My guarded gaze traveled between their faces. “Make it fast. I’m going to be here all the while.”
Senior blinked at me. “You truly love him, don’t you, child?”
I leveled his glare with my own. “I would kill for him, sir.”
After the awkward silence that followed my overdramatic yet truthful declaration, Jasper shuffled to Romeo’s bed, drinking in an eyeful. My fingers twitched. I resisted the urge to block his view of my husband in such a vulnerable position. I couldn’t remember him ever looking anything short of an untouchable emperor. The sight never ceased to jar me, even four days later.
Jasper flapped open his case, rifling through some documents. “Obviously, we’re all hoping and praying for Romeo Jr.’s quick recovery. In the meantime, though, I would like to inform you that, should Mr. Costa take a turn for the worse, he made it clear what he wished for his wealth and estates. And though there is no prenup, there’s a will.”
Blinking slowly through eyes so swollen I hardly saw anything through them, I shook my head. “No. You’re wrong. There is a prenup. I signed it myself. Right in front of you.”
That seemed decades ago, but I knew my memory didn’t fail me.
Jasper Hayward frowned. “Mrs. Costa, I thought your husband told you.”
“Told me what?”
“Told you he stopped by my office a few weeks ago, tore the prenup to shreds, and dictated a will, instead. He left you everything he has. Every single thing.”
I staggered back, almost fainting. It was only by a miracle that I stayed on my feet. “Are you serious right now?”
“I get paid way too much to joke about such things.”
Romeo left me everything. His money. His mansion. His cars. All of it. I knew the why. He’d told me, seconds before he’d skidded out of consciousness. The question was—when did he write his will? At what point did he decide he loved me?