Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 102566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 513(@200wpm)___ 410(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
I hold in my breath, feeling like I'll never let it go as she tightens the corset even further. I can barely breathe, but I suppose that's the point of these awful torturing devices.
My heart is beating fast in anticipation of what's about to happen. I should be excited about this. Seeing Vitto again... it would be any Sicilian girl's dream to marry the son of the owners of the docks. But not me. I'm terrified, dreading this. But there's no escape for me. Despite hoping Adrian would save me, I haven't heard a peep from him or his family. Even if they had made contact, I'm certain my parents would not tell me. Mafia princesses like me are best kept in the dark, as far as they're concerned.
"You look so beautiful, signorina," Lucia tells me with a delighted smile. "Signore Donati won't know what hit him."
I manage a weak smile in response. I want to beg Lucia to switch places with me. To help me escape. But I know anything I do is fruitless. Italy is a small place when you're the mafia heiress of the famous De Luca family. There's no way I could outrun my reputation.
"Thanks, Lucia," I manage, resisting the urge to tug on my perfect updo and allow the tendrils of hair to fall free of its tight chignon. "I'll see you later."
My maid is all smiles as she disappears from my quarters. I don't even get a moment to myself, because a second later, there's a knock on my door and papa is waiting for me with a beatific smile on his face.
"You must be delighted," he beams when he sees me, approvingly taking in my appearance. "You will make us proud tonight, Marzia."
I nod, feeling frozen as he leads me out of my room and down the hallway to the powder room where I will see Vitto again. The sounds of people enjoying themselves in the grand hall are carried up the stairs, and I find myself envying them. I would switch places with anyone in a heartbeat right now. Anything to get me out of here, away from my family, away from Vitto Donati and his expectations of me.
We stand in front of the double doors leading into the powder room and papa turns to face me, gently touching my cheek. It makes me wonder what happened to the special, wonderful relationship we had when I was a little girl. I used to be the apple of papa's eye. He loved me just as much as he loved my brother. But now all that is over. I'm just a chess piece to him. A pawn in the game of who will be most powerful in Palermo.
"Don't let me down," he tells me sternly, the look of gentleness in his eyes instantly replaced by stern determination. "Our family's fortune lies on your shoulders now, Marzia. I know you can handle this pressure and I know you will make a good wife to Vitto Donati. You will not disappoint me today, daughter. You will do as you were told and instructed to. Your entire life has led up to this moment, and I will not allow you to ruin it."
Good. Meek. Obedient. All words that I wish didn't describe me, or my relationship to anyone. But I have no choice.
"Do you understand?" papa asks, narrowing his eyes when I don't answer immediately. I nod, averting his gaze and the delighted smile on his lips as he opens the double doors. "Go ahead, daughter. Make mama and papa proud."
Keeping my eyes downcast, I enter the powder room. I can't even bring myself to look up, not when I know who's waiting for me.
I spent a lifetime wishing one man would be my Master, my husband. I would be a willing captive for him. But Adrian Bernardi isn't here tonight. Instead, it's the boy who hurt him - the boy I vowed to hate because he was cruel to Adrian.
"Marzia."
His voice is deep, accented with the hint of a foreign language, perhaps English. I know Vitto spent years studying abroad, and it must've impacted the way he speaks. Fearfully, I raise my eyes to meet his. He's handsome. Devastatingly handsome. He has dark hair and the most striking pair of grey eyes. His skin is dark and tanned with exposure from the sun, from being in the docks often. He towers over me. His shoulders are broad in the all-black outfit he's wearing. Any Italian girl would be delighted to marry him. But not me.
We are the only ones not in costume tonight. It is tradition for the bride and groom to be seen during occasions like this, and right now, I wish I had a mask to protect myself with. To hide how much Vitto Donati intimidates me.