Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
He’s beautiful. That is the worst part. He must be 6’2” at least. His hair is midnight-black and trimmed nicely, showing a slight hint of gray just at the temples. His smile, the cocky one he showed earlier, is perfect and white. It almost makes him seem human and not at all the monster dressed up nice in an expensive suit.
How many men has he killed while wearing that suit and smile? Those broody green eyes—how many times have they watched life leave someone at his command?
More than hundreds, I’m sure. I did research. His father died when he was just nineteen.
He became a boss at nineteen.
This almost—not completely, but almost—has me feeling sorry for him. That’s too young an age to take on such a responsibility. A life of crime, violence, and killing. No wonder he’s hardened and callous—ruthless and cruel. That’s what he is. Everything I learned about him led me to one conclusion.
I’m marrying a monster. An asshole. A man with no restraint. The most dangerous men in our history have been like this. And the women at their side? They have been the most miserable and misplaced women in all the world.
I hope I never have a daughter. Knowing part of this deal is to have a child makes me the sickest.
I’ve always wanted to be a mother, but to a child who wouldn’t be born into blood so vile, with a man who loved me and who I loved. That was the fairy tale I believed in and never had a chance to have. I never made it out like very few women in our world did. No one ever came and saved me.
The only one who has, this one, is another man who wants to lock me up in a cage and pluck out the few feathers I have left. I’ll be naked and bare soon, stripped to nothing but shame, misery, and captivity.
This is a fate I never want a daughter to have to suffer. Maybe I will be barren, and then I won’t have to bring any children into this dreaded life.
“The reception will be here in our ballroom, proceeding the ceremony at the church. We have everything in place. Many made men are coming, and we want it to be perfect. The planner can show you everything.” My mother’s voice comes through my haze, and I bring my eyes up and look at her, then glance at Nico before landing on my plate.
“No need. I just want the guest list. I need to make note of everyone in attendance and make sure we aren’t missing anyone,” he says, taking a sip of his wine. I watch in my peripherals the way his jaw works and his throat bobs as he swallows.
“Sure thing. You don’t want to know the colors? Theme? Anything?” my mother questions with a surprised tone as her voice moves across the table to where we are.
“No. You can tell my underboss, Giulio, this information, and I will make sure I have the things I need.”
“The colors are white and soft gold,” I whisper.
Nico turns toward me, his gaze hot where it lingers on the side of my face.
“Look at me when you speak, Emelia,” he demands, and I want to slap him so hard in that moment for basically scolding me in front of my father. Do I not suffer enough humiliation because of that man?
Nico demands respect but lacks it when it comes to giving it to me.
“You demand such respect while also ordering me to hold my head high. Which is it? Where is yours, Nico Valiente?” I ask matter-of-factly, looking him directly in the eye.
“Emelia Rene Notelli!” my mother hollers as my father slams his fist down.
“Damn you, child. Watch your mouth,” he yells.
Nico lifts two fingers to my father and mother, never taking his eyes off me.
“Both. But you have to earn my respect. It won’t be given freely like everyone else will have to because of your upcoming title. Show me you are worthy of me.”
I scoff.“Worthy of you? You’re a mafia king—a boss and a terrible man who does awful, wicked things. It is you who needs to earn mine.” I stand and scoot the chair back, throwing down the cloth napkin as I go.
“Excuse me while I go off and learn to be an obedient wife.” I take off and run out the door, listening to my father call after me and the guards to follow me.
But I didn’t miss the way Nico looked—impressed by my response, yet angry and filled with the compelling need to subdue me.
If I’m going down, I’ll do so swinging. I just wanted love.
I wanted what I had with him.
God… what I had with him.
“Damian,” I whisper his name as I fall to the ground and cry, now far enough from the house to feel alone but still surrounded by bars. Trapped.