Savage Love: A Dark Mafia Romance (The Savage Trilogy Book 3) by M. James

Author:M. James [James, M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: PNK Publishing
Published: 2023-07-22T18:30:00+00:00

Elena

For the first time since I came to Boston, I’m going home to the new house and not back to Isabella’s. We got the keys this morning, and I’d asked Levin if I should stay home, since everything was being moved in—all the furniture we picked out, our personal possessions. He’d told me no, that we’d hired enough people to handle it, and that I needed to make friends. He had plans to go out with Liam and Niall, once the movers were finished.

I have no idea if he’ll be home or not when I get there. I toyed with the idea of sending him a text a half-dozen times between leaving the McGregor estate, dropping Isabella off, and getting close to the house, but I didn’t. I wasn’t sure if that was a thing we did. Do we send each other messages, letting the other know we’re on the way home? It seems like something a married couple should do, but I still have no idea what kind of married couple we are.

I don’t really think either of us do.

There are lights on when I get out of the car, shining a warm glow through the windows. I feel a small leap in my chest, the way I always do when I think about Levin, or hear him mentioned, or talk about him. I wonder, as I brush past the security and put my key into the lock, if it will ever go away—either because of the passage of time or because I’ve had to find a way to put it to rest, to keep my heart from being broken over and over again.

I open the door, stepping inside. It’s the first time I’ve come home to this house, and as I slip off my shoes, the smooth wooden floor cool under the bare soles of my feet, I find myself hoping that we stay here. That we get to keep all the memories that I hope we’ll get to make, if I give it time, the way Caterina seems to think that I should.

“Hello?” I call out as I pad down the hall, wondering if Levin is home, or if he just left the lights on—or if one of the security did.

“Elena?” I hear his voice from the living room, a little blurred around the edges, as if he’s a little drunk. I feel that leap in my chest again, remembering the last time I saw him drunk—in a hotel room in Rio, and how that night had gone. A game of never have I ever that turned into much, much more.

I close my eyes against the memory of his hands on me in the small, uncomfortable bed, the way I hadn’t cared because everything else felt so good, the memory of coming to talk to him outside, with the scent of smoke hanging around us and the sound of rain beating down against the pavement, the wall of the hotel rough against my back as he’d kissed me.

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