Novel-novel oleh Ivy_Winters

(Pamela)..I MAKE IT exactly three steps down the hallway before my legs give way.My back hits the wall and I slide down to the floor, my carefully composed facade crumbling the moment I'm out of Massimo's sight. The marble is cold against my skin, but it's nothing compared to the ice spreading through my chest.‘Oh, Elsa.’The name keeps echoing in my head on repeat and each repetition feels like a fresh wound. Not my name, Pamela. But Elsa, his dead wife, the woman whose shadow I've apparently been living in this entire time without even knowing it.I press my hands to my face and try to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill over. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have missed all the signs?The way he sometimes looked at me with that strange and unreadable expression, like he was seeing someone else. The way he'd been so insistent on this arrangement, on taking in Erik, and on bringing me into his home.It was never about me. It was about her. It was about

(Massimo)..I DON'T REALISE the implication of what I've said until Pamela goes rigid beneath me and her hands suddenly start pushing against my chest instead of pulling me closer."What did you just say?" Her voice is barely a whisper, but it cuts through the quiet of the room like a blade.The name hangs in the air between us, and I realize with horror what I've just done. In between the sweet pleasures of the moment, I'd accidentally mentioned Elsa. My dead wife's name. The woman whose memory I've spent years trying to honor, trying to move past and trying to forget."Pamela, I . . ."But she's already scrambling out from beneath me and pulling her dress back up with shaking hands. The look on her face is pure devastation mixed with humiliation. I'd just made a fool of her by moaning another woman’s name. Even for me, it's an unforgivable sin.I'm the biggest clown to ever exist. "You don't even see me," she finally says, her voice cracking like she's on the brink of tears. I

(Massimo)..THE RIDE BACK to the villa is suffocating. Pamela sits as far away from me as she possibly can in the back of the car, her arms crossed tightly across her chest as she stares out the window. The silence between us is unbearable. I know I was an asshole tonight. I know dragging her away from the restaurant like some possessive caveman was exactly the wrong move. But watching that photographer, David or whatever the fuck his name is, all over her, complimenting her bone structure, asking for private photo shoots and even touching her hand when he gave her his card... something primal and ugly had reared its head inside me.Mine.The word had pounded through my skull with every charming smile he'd flashed her way this evening. She's mine.Except she's not. We only have a contract, a business arrangement. Nothing more.So why does the thought of her posing for another man's camera make me want to punch my fist through a wall?The walk back to our villa is equally as tense

(Pamela)..Heat flares in my chest at Massimo’s hurtful accusation. "Maybe because he genuinely wanted to know me rather than treat me as just a means to an end.”Massimo leans forward slightly, his voice dropping to that dangerous tone that makes my pulse race despite my anger. "If I treated you as ‘just’ a means to an end, believe me, you'd be in a far worse position than this."His statement only confirms my perception of the kind of man he is. "How enlightening. And here I thought we were business partners.""Business partners don't usually. . .""Don't usually what?" I challenge when he stops mid-sentence.His gaze drops to my lips for just a moment before snapping back to my eyes. "Nothing. Forget it, Pamela."But I know what he was going to say. Business partners don't usually almost kiss in kitchen corners. Don't usually look at each other the way we've been looking at each other all evening."That's what I thought," I murmur, taking another sip of champagne to hide my sa

(Pamela)..THE SOUND OF WAVES crashing against the shore mingles with the rhythmic beat of the live band just as we arrive at the beachside restaurant, Massimo and I. After much consideration, I decided to go with him to the Friday night performance not because I chose peace but because I wasn't sure when next I'd come to Bali. Plus the honeymoon was almost over. And I didn’t want to miss the performance for the world.Tonight, the restaurant is as stunning as ever. Twinkling lights are strung between the palm trees, creating a glowing canopy over the tables scattered across the sand. A small stage is set up near the water's edge where the live band plays the island music that I've fallen desperately in love with.The smell of grilled seafood and tropical spices fills the warm evening air. I already know it tastes just as good as it smells."This is beautiful," I admit, impressed as Massimo guides me toward a table that's been reserved right in front of the stage. “Of course you g

(Pamela)..THE WORDS HANG in the air between us like a live wire, crackling with electricity. My breath catches in my throat as I stare up at Massimo, his dark eyes burning with an intensity that makes my knees go weak. The kitchen suddenly feels suffocating, the walls closing in on us as his confession reverberates through my mind.‘On her damn knees.’Heat floods my cheeks, but it's not from embarrassment. It's from the traitorous way my body responds to his raw honesty. I should be outraged. I should slap him for confessing that he'd had sexual thoughts about me right from the first day we met, the worst day of my life. Instead, I'm frozen against the wall, hyper aware of every inch between us, which isn't much."You're sick," I whisper, but my voice lacks conviction. His wolfish grin widens. "Am I?"He places one hand flat against the wall beside my head, leaning in even closer. His cologne completely fills my senses and I can feel the heat radiating from his body, can see the