Page 3 of Shattered Choices

two

Salvatore

I stare at the spreadsheet in front of me, the numbers not making any sense. I can’t focus. I didn’t sleep, nor did I eat. My mind stayed outside Ethan’s place, where he didn’t let me talk to Isabella.

I’m going to make the bastard pay for that stunt. Instead of numbers, I see his bloody face as I beat him up.

When my phone rings, it stops me from daydreaming of all the ways I can kill Ethan Caine.

I take a deep breath and control my breathing before I answer my office phone.

“Yes.”

“I have Cecilla Montgomery here for you, sir,” the chirpy voice from the front desk says.

Before my brain can grasp who she is, my heart skips a beat because Cecilia is Ceci. Bella’s Ceci. And that can only mean one thing. She is here because of her.

Questions of why and worries that something bad has happened to Isabella flash through my mind. I don’t answer. I stand, and like a man on a mission, I almost spring to the front desk of my hotel.

When I reach the front, I try to read Cecilia’s face to get the answer I need.

“That was quick.” If looks could kill, I’d be dead.

“Is Isabella all right? Where is she?” I look around like she will pop out from a corner of the lobby.

“She’s fine, and she’s not here.” Ceci crosses her arms in front of her and taps her foot on the floor.

Disappointment fills my chest, and I exhale as a heavy feeling fills my body. My gut is telling me there is something wrong. Cecilia being here is wrong.

“Where is she?” I search her face, my eyes pleading with her.

“She is where she’s supposed to be.”

I narrow my eyes. “And where is that?”

She scoffs. “That’s not your concern.” She pulls something from her enormous bag. “You have been served.” She passes me an envelope.

I look at it, not knowing what to do. I can only guess the contents, and it sure isn’t anything I will like.

“Consider this your ticket back to your previous life.” I swallow hard because her next words hit like a knife in my heart. “A life where you live in your past with the ghosts that control your future.”

Before I can ask anything else, she turns on her heels and walks out, leaving me with a dreadful feeling and a bad taste in my mouth.

I open the envelope, and it’s what I expected. My divorce papers, decorated with Isabella’s signature.

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting and staring into space since I received the divorce papers. All I know is that it doesn’t feel good. The stabbing pain in my heart is growing the more I think about where things in my life went wrong.

I think about how I inflicted pain on Isabella and how she suffered because of my choices.

I know what my next step is.

I will make amends. I must make amends.

I can’t give her the life she lived before I forced her to marry me, but I can give her what she wants.

I pick up the pen with the intention of signing the papers, but my hand doesn’t want to move.

I laugh in the darkness of my office.

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