Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“Fucking the boss’s best friend doesn’t make you family, Jayden.” The girl plugging a blow-dryer in, who must be Jenna, smirks from her place to my right. Her eyes meet mine, the purple contacts she’s wearing bright and glittery. “You met Mino yet, Blondie?”
A hint of embarrassment threatens to creep in, but I force it away. I have nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m not the one keeping someone else prisoner. “I haven’t met anyone.” I decide it’s not a lie, being I would almost guarantee Katana is a topic not to be discussed. Or at least one I don’t want to discuss anyway.
“Girl, you’re missing out. I saw the sex tape he and Jay made. Hot,” the third girl, Jazzy adds, beckoning me over with a crook of her finger.
Jayden pulls me to my feet, and I jolt when she smacks my ass playfully to get me moving. “Not a sex tape when you didn’t know there were cameras, and we’re not fucking, we fucked. A few times.”
The laughs the girls let out clearly say they disagree, and Jayden looks to me expectantly.
“I mean…if there’s a video of you having sex, regardless of knowing you were being recorded or not, it’s still a sex tape.”
“Don’t let her fool you, dear.” Grandma slides into the room with a rolling cart, a gorgeous spread of fruits and a bottle of chardonnay on ice sitting on top. “She knew good and well every inch of the property in question was under surveillance. She’ll be sure to try and blackmail the poor man with it later.”
“Mom!” she gapes.
I gape.
And Grandma just lifts a brow, glancing my way as if to confirm. Jayden is her daughter.
I scan the room, my eyes narrowing.
They are all her daughters.
Well, that’s…unexpected. I assumed she was a childless woman who devoted her life serving the Fikiles, having raised Enzo on her own and just never left.
I kind of like that I was wrong. Maybe her devotion to him doesn’t run as deep as I had thought, and I can learn to trust her.
Maybe, in time, she’ll become someone I can lean on should I need to.
“Okay, what are we thinking gown-wise?” Jazzy asks, gripping my hips and sliding her hands up my ribs as if to gauge my figure better. “Your posture is on point. No wonder he chose all these strapless pieces. He wants your shoulders on display.”
“Oh, I’ve got the perfect updo!” Jenna smiles.
“No.” The word comes out too harsh, too fast, and all eyes find mine. Shit. I force myself not to swallow. “My hair stays down and no open back.”
“Of course.” Grandma nods, pouring my wine and setting it back down on the rolling cart she parked beside the makeup chair.
“My sister will wear an open back,” I say as way of reason, focusing on Jazzy. “What does that leave?”
She quickly moves things around, and then I’m staring at two gowns, one a deep purple with a square set to the shoulders and plunging neckline that stops just below the breastbone, but it’s the other that has a small smile tipping my lips.
“And we have a winner.” Jazzy plays with her necklace, eyes glued to the stretchy material like she’s memorizing every detail, which should be simple enough considering.
I look to her hand, to the where her finger presses against the circular pendant hanging from a familiar, if only thinner, gold chain. A frown pulls at my brows, but before I can ask anything, not sure I would have, she clears her throat, tucking it beneath her shirt. “The more I look at this, the more perfect it looks for you. Okay. Let’s do this.”
I’m measured, then shoved back into Jayden’s chair when Jazzy announces the dresses Enzo had ordered are already tailored to my exact measurements.
Face wiped clean of the facial mask, my hair removed from the clip, and wine is thrust into my hand. I do all I can to sit back and enjoy the glamour session, even if I am fully capable of making myself presentable for an upscale event, but I am grateful not to have to, even if that isn’t the reason these women were called here today.
My mind is running a mile a minute, half thoughts and concerns stressing me out before a new one blooms, and it starts all over again.
If these are Grandma’s daughters, does that mean they were raised with Enzo? How well do they know him?
How well does he know them?
Well, obviously if he trusts them in his house unsupervised. It hadn’t gone unnoticed to me that there are zero women who work for him, and no, Grandma doesn’t count. She only seems to work for me.
Why did he tattoo my lips on his skin?
Why does it thrill me beyond reason that he did?
I want to be a spoiled little bitch, do the whole I kissed it so it’s mine. Dig my nails into the opposite side and pet him like my favored toy in front of anyone who will watch.