Page 49 of Wife (Betrothed 1)


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“Too late.” I didn’t hate him. I just…didn’t respect him. I guess I really didn’t know him.

“He was a good man. I know that’s hard to believe, but he loved you so much. He never loved me, but he adored you.”

“I know he did.” That much was true.

“So, he wanted to make sure you had the right man to keep you protected. I admire you for being smart and strong-willed, but this is something you can’t handle on your own. You need to trust me on that.”

“I agree. So, I’ll cut ties with all those men and start fresh. I’ll run it as a hotel—a real hotel.”

Her eyes fell in disappointment. “That won’t work either. They won’t be happy.”

“I’m not running the hotels this way.”

“And if you hope to achieve that, you would need a powerful husband to do it. Because they’ll laugh in your face and run you off your own property. You still have years to enjoy your youth, so don’t worry about it right now.”

That was impossible.

“Take some time to process all of this. I’m sure you’ll feel differently…eventually.”

Unlikely. “That was why you married Gustavo?”

She nodded. “I don’t have what it takes to handle men like that. I wanted nothing to do with it, so Gustavo was a good choice. The business keeps running, and I keep being rich. Everyone wins.”

Except me. “Just when I think the world can’t get bleaker…it does.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your first husband beat you until he got help. Your second husband married you so he could run the hotel. Our family’s legacy is a con. Everything looks pretty on the outside, but it’s so dark on the inside.”

“You’re looking at it the wrong way, honey,” she whispered. “My first husband got help because he hated who he was. My second husband wants to protect me and my wealth. My hotel is flourishing, giving us the life your father would have wanted us to have. Everything changes based on your perspective…so get the right perspective.”

11

Hades

Tuscan Rose was hosting a formal dinner for all the local businesses in the area, notably those who contributed to the hotel in some way. Running an establishment like that created lots of relationships, some better than others.

Damien and I were attending. I wasn’t sure if Sofia was. She was upset with her mother and stepfather for their approach to running the hotel, and since she was a sassy little thing, her attitude wouldn’t die out easily.

“She gonna be there?” Damien asked as he drove the Ferrari down the narrow streets.

“Don’t know.”

“You didn’t ask?”

“I assume she’s not. Probably would have mentioned it if she were.”

“And you didn’t mention it to her?” he asked in surprise.

“It’s a sore subject…”

He turned down the street then approached the valet in front of the hotel. “You think there will be pussy at this thing?”

“There’s pussy everywhere, Damien.”

“Then maybe we should have driven separately.”

“I can get myself home if you’re so lucky.” The valet took the car, and we walked inside. We made it to the top floor, the same exact place where Sofia and I met for the first time. When I saw hundreds of people crowded into the ballroom, nostalgia hit me and I was taken back to four years ago, when Sofia was barely legal. It was a cold night just like this, and people were so absorbed in conversation, they didn’t notice the young couple slip outside.

Damien took a look around, his hands in his pockets. “This looks like a snooze-fest to me.”

“What are you expecting? Strippers?”

He snapped his fingers. “Now that would be awesome.”

A waitress came over and offered us champagne.

Damien took a glass then stared at her ass as she walked through the crowd.

A flashback of our time in Morocco came back to me. We’d been walking through the bazaar when a group of pretty girls passed, and Damien immediately turned to watch them, making an identical expression to the one he did now.

I’d been thinking about that night a lot recently, that purple tent with the gold vases in the corner. The gypsy wore a blue-eyed pendant from her necklace, as if that was the source of her all-seeing power. I’d been just a boy at the time, turning twenty-one and so hard up that I spent all my cash at the brothel. When she read my future, I didn’t care so much about the results. But my feelings for Sofia were only growing…and the height of her walls never changed. That prophecy couldn’t be true, right?

“How about you do the mingling?” Damien asked. “There is one fine piece of ass sitting all alone. I should go over there and ruin her night.” He handed his half-finished glass to me like I was the help.

“Could you act professional for once in your life?”

“I’m a drug dealer.” He said it with a grin, like he didn’t care who overheard him. “I’m definitely not professional.”

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