Total pages in book: 32
Estimated words: 30098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30098 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 150(@200wpm)___ 120(@250wpm)___ 100(@300wpm)
There were wives who would stand by their husband’s side without a single care in the world. Laughing, happy, excited about their life. She knew it happened in her own world, but they were so fleeting, it always seemed to be gone in a blink of an eye.
She stepped into the kitchen. The main light was off, but there were several beneath the cupboards on the wall that gave the kitchen a soft glow. Some might even consider it romantic.
Walking toward the sink, she reached into the cupboard on the left and grabbed a small glass. At first, she was tempted by a mug of hot chocolate, but now, all she wanted to do was have some water and go to bed. It was getting late.
She had no idea when Dante was going to be home, and she’d rather avoid any more confrontation with him. In the next few weeks, she needed to come up with a plan. One that meant she went back to her family home and then found some way to sneak into her father’s bedroom.
The only way she was going to do that was if she took Isabella with her. Her sister would be the one who’d invite her back home. Her family didn’t need her now, and as far as they were concerned, she had no choice but to do her duty. She just couldn’t tell her sister what she hoped to achieve. The less people who knew about her plot, the better.
Finishing off the water, she cleaned the glass, dried it, and then put it back in place. Once she was done, she spun around and nearly had a heart attack. She had no idea Dante was even home, or that he’d entered the kitchen.
“Dante,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest. “You startled me.”
“That was not my intention.”
Her heart was racing. She hoped she’d not spoken aloud about any part of her plan.
“I don’t imagine it was.” She was not going to freak out. Laughing, she couldn’t help but look toward the doorway right behind him and hope for a chance to escape. The last thing she wanted to do was make small talk.
They stood, opposite sides of the kitchen. She was still near the sink, Dante in the doorway. He wasn’t wearing a jacket anymore. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up, and he looked angry.
Aria didn’t know what had set off his anger, and she wasn’t interested in learning either. Dante, other than to do his duty, hadn’t laid a finger on her, and she wanted to keep it that way. Other women were not quite so lucky. Black eyes, lots of makeup, and of course lies—that was what she was used to hearing from them.
The silence between them was starting to make her uncomfortable. She wanted it to be over.
“I was just getting a glass of water. I’m about to go to bed,” she said.
Move. Try not to draw his attention.
Not for a single second did she think she had the power to draw his attention, but she didn’t want to have to perform more of her duties.
Go.
Dante wasn’t saying anything, but he was staring at her. She had no choice but to attempt her escape.
She moved toward him, and was just about to glide past him when he suddenly reached out, grasping her arm, and before she knew what was happening, she was pressed up against the wall. Panic swelled up inside her. What had happened? Had she done something wrong?
She heard the cruelties of people at parties saying that he would probably beat her because she wasn’t anywhere in his league. Fear traveled down her spine, and it had no thought, no care, no consideration.
She stared at him, waiting, wondering.
“You don’t have to be afraid,” Dante said.
“I don’t?”
“No, you don’t. I just want to try something. Trust me.”
Aria didn’t trust him. His reputation far exceeded him, but there was nowhere else for her to go. She felt the panic, but then Dante surprised her. The only time they had kissed was on their wedding day straight after the priest had told them the I do’s. The kiss at the altar had been chaste. To any onlooker, they couldn’t have mistaken that neither person wanted to be there.
She’d been terrified. Since then, they had not kissed.
They hadn’t even had a honeymoon, or done anything together, other than their duty. She struggled to think of it as sex … it was duty. Sex was something different to her, intimate.
All thought fled her mind as Dante’s lips took possession of her own. She expected him to be somewhat cruel, unyielding, refusing to give up and just taking. This kiss was so many different things, and yet, all of them together.
Dante’s hands went to the wall on either side of her head. At first, it was only their lips touching, and Aria couldn’t deny that it felt nice.