Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 125962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“Yes, Papa, I’m happy,” I croaked, my voice breaking at the end.
“And that boy will keep you safe, I know it.” He swiped a tear from my eye. “Because he is now a man. One I like, one I am proud to welcome as a son. All a father wants is a man who can even attempt to love his daughter as much as he does. Cristian will never beat me, but he is definitely a top contender.”
Tears trailed down my face, and my father wiped them away with his thumb.
“Tears of joy, I hope?” he asked, his own voice full of fissures.
“Yes, Papa, tears of joy,” I replied.
He then kissed me on the head and left the room, murmuring about last minute arrangements that needed to be taken care of before the party.
My heart was full, bursting with the knowledge that everything was going to work out. All of my dreams were going to come true.
It started with a low pop.
Almost like fireworks.
But I knew better than that.
I may have been the princess everyone in the family protected from the realities of the business, but I knew what a gunshot sounded like.
My hands froze from where I’d been putting on my makeup for the party.
I had the house to myself, except for Lorenzo, downstairs somewhere watching television, sitting cross-legged as close as he could get because Mama wasn’t home to scold him for doing so.
It was after I finished getting ready when I heard the pops. My dress—not the one my mother chose—was white. Maybe a little on the nose given the situation, but I liked it. Before, I’d been so anxious to look sexy, to communicate that I was a woman, to make Cristian desire me as a man does a woman. Then I’d remembered last night. The way he touched me. Gentle yet animalistic. The ways his eyes roved over my naked body like he wanted to devour me. The small bruises on my inner thighs from the pads of his fingers, the beautiful discomfort that lingered from the memory of him inside me.
Cristian proved to me utterly and completely that he found me sexy, he made love to me like I was the only girl he’d ever love, and then he’d fucked me like a man infatuated with a woman does. I hadn’t needed to change a thing about myself. Not for him.
The dress I wore was a little small for me. Now that my boobs were bigger, they spilled over the top ever so slightly. It tied at the neck and had an open back so I didn’t have to wear a bra. The bodice clung to my stomach and hips before falling loosely to finish at my knees.
I’d let my dark hair tumble in wild curls down my back, wearing little makeup. The summer had turned my already olive skin even darker, making my eyes glow an emerald green—Mama always said they glowed when I was happy. I’d never been happier than I was in that moment, celebrating my eighteenth birthday with a ring on my finger, a future with the love of my life ahead of me. A future that had my father’s blessing.
Then there were the pops.
Gunshots.
I knew that’s what they were.
My hands froze over the top of my stomach, where they’d been as I’d idly wondered if Cristian and I had made a baby last night. We hadn’t used any kind of protection. Neither of us had wanted that. Neither of us had said anything about making a child, we were so young after all, but our love was old, and I was ready to be a mother.
There were armed guards on the property. Always. Even when my father was at home. Normally, whenever it was just me and Lorenzo—which was extremely rare, there were always ‘uncles’, cooks and nannies around the house—that guard unit was doubled. I knew that my father fielded threats from those who wanted his power. I also knew—from some great eavesdropping—that he had made peace with the two families who had previously been his biggest rivals.
It could’ve been someone tripping, fumbling, accidently discharging their weapon. But I knew my father. He did not employ men who would make such mistakes.
Then came more pops in rapid succession.
That was when I ran out of my room and down the stairs, yelling for my brother. While I ran, I tried to calculate how long ago my father left. Was it one hour? Two? The party was due to start in just over an hour. He and my mother would be back at any moment. They were the people who could handle this, save us if need be. There was a cold pit in my stomach that told me we needed to be saved. And a dark whisper that told me no one was coming to save us.