Page 40 of Whispers in the Dark
“Umm, are you still there?” I ask, looking at the screen to make sure we didn’t disconnect.
“You married an Alarie?”
“I… Well, yes. Why does that—”
“What the fuck were you thinking?” he roars.
A shiver passes through me. “You told me I need to get married. He was… He was my only option.”
“And does he know why you needed to get married?”
I swallow. “No. I only told him that some money was left to me, and the only way I could inherit it was if I married.”
There’s a pause in the conversation before he says, “This might just work to our advantage.”
My brows furrow. “What does that mean?”
The call ends, and I lie back, staring at the ceiling. “What did he mean by that?”
Tears blur my eyes as I let guilt consume me.
Guilt for tricking Mauro into this marriage by not being honest with him.
Maybe if he knew the truth, he could help me.
But it’s not something I can risk.
Not when my dad is counting on me.
My phone vibrates beside me, and I hesitate in grabbing it, thinking it’shimagain, but when I see Madeleine’s name on the screen, I feel immediate relief.
“Hey.” I sit up, resting my back against the headboard.
“Want to come over and share a quart of ice cream?”
“A quart?”
“Hey, I was shot, remember?”
“That was like a month ago.”
She scoffs. “Are you insinuating that I’m milking this?”
I gasp, feigning mock horror. “Never.”
We both laugh.
“Pick out a pair of pajamas and meet my driver at your door in ten minutes,” she tells me. “Scarlett’s coming over, too. Just like old times.”
I twirl a piece of my hair around my finger. Since I quit my job and am now unemployed, I do have free time. Something I’m not entirely used to. And as much as I want to curl under these covers or even soak in the giant tub, I could really use a night with my best friends. “What flavor do you have?”
“Hey, Alina,” Eli greets me at the front door, his arm motioning for me to come inside. “They’re both in the kitchen. I hope you brought your sweet tooth.” He chuckles as he shuts the door behind me. “If you need anything, I’ll be in my office.”
“Thanks, Eli.” I enter the kitchen, remove my jacket, which reveals my purple-striped pajamas, and find the countertops covered with pints and quarts of ice cream, candy, whipped cream, and chocolate sauce. “Jeez, you don’t joke around when it comes to ice cream.”
Madeleine pops her head from behind the freezer door. “Nope.” She smiles, flipping her long, dark strands over her shoulder. “Go make yourself comfortable in the theater room. I’ll bring everything out there.”
“Do you want any help?”
