Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 71131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
She smiles. “Good, because I would have been confused otherwise.”
I let out a shaky breath.
And then she’s just gone, moving out the door with Roman by her side, getting in a Range Rover as he gets in the back with her, and I’m left wondering what the fuck my life is about to look like if this is how the night before my wedding ends.
Maksim comes up next to me. I don’t even need him to speak. I can feel his anger, his need to say something or do something. His hand finds my shoulder, and he says in a low voice, “What do you need?”
“Fuck me up,” I say it before I can think.
“That”—he nods his head—“we can all do.”
“All?”
“Like we’d let you suffer in silence.” Ash walks up with a bottle of whiskey, and thank God, Junior holds out some weed. And I’m there. I’m so there I can’t even form words.
Valerian soon follows with Tank close by.
And it’s all I can do to just stand there while they surround me. I imagined my bachelor party vastly different from this, but I can’t find it in my heart to be upset when I’m surrounded by family and best friends.
“C’mon,” Valerian starts shoving me away. “Stop being a weak ass pussy and at least get in the ring with one of us until you’re too drunk to stand up.”
“Still beat your ass,” I say.
He shoves me.
I laugh.
And things feel a bit more normal when I’m with my boys except for the fact that I’m left wondering what Del’s doing.
And who she’s doing things with.
“Stop!” Ash bats me on the back of the head. “Every time you make that face, I’m making you drink.”
“Drink, drink!” Valerian, my brother, shouts.
And for the first time in days, I give them a genuine smile.
Chapter Eight
“And all I loved. I loved alone.” —Edgar Allan Poe
Del
“Stop.” I shove Roman away gently. “I’m just not… I can’t.”
His kisses feel good.
We’re alone in my bedroom. Everyone in the house is either drunk or in bed, and I should be happy. I mean, he’s with me, kissing me, loving me… but I can’t. I just can’t.
“Sweetheart…” Roman kisses my cheek. “I just want you to go into tomorrow feeling good, feeling me, knowing who you love, who loves you—”
“Yeah.” I sit up in bed. “I know.”
“Do you, though?” He’s shirtless, his six-pack on full display. The man isn’t even flexing, and he’s toned and gorgeous, but I can’t stop thinking about the wedding night and the archaic thing my stupid uncle asked for.
“Proof,” he said. “I want proof that they’ve actually been together.”
Tex looked ready to murder everyone in the room. “Are you dumb enough to think she’s a virgin?”
“Proof,” he demanded again.
Tex rolled his eyes. “We aren’t putting cameras in there; that’s bullshit, creepy, wrong on so many levels and—”
“A blood oath,” I spoke up like an idiot. “We’ll both give a blood oath that we’ll sleep together, bringing both Families together, possibly a child.” I literally choke out that last word. “Won’t that satisfy everyone?”
My mom taught me well, despite the fact that all of this feels so wrong, like drinking poison and smiling while it drips down your throat.
“Yes.” My uncle lifted his chin like he won like he had pride for me when he was only ever slightly better than my dead father. God, I hoped one of the other Families killed him.
Truly.
“Great,” said Tex, every inch our Capo in that moment. “I’ll agree to the terms as long as I have your consent, Del. I want you to be comfortable, as you know these terms come from your uncle. I don’t care if you ever see my child’s naked ass. This is an arranged marriage, and everything is on your terms.”
I loved that man. I wished he was my dad.
Then again, he would be soon.
“It’s fine,” I said. “I’ll agree to the terms as long as King does.”
King stood stock-still.
His hands clenched at his sides like it would be physically painful to see me naked and attempt to get it up.
I tried not to look offended.
I tried to look strong.
But it hurt like hell that the actual thought of him sleeping with me made him that angry.
“Hey…” Roman brushes the hair away from my face. “Where do you go when you look like that? It makes me worried, like really worried something’s wrong, and you’re not telling me.” He starts to smile; it’s beautiful—he’s beautiful. “You realize that your soon-to-be husband just gave us permission to be together? And that I get to be at your side twenty-four-seven without losing my spot with your uncle, right? We should be celebrating!”
Yay, this is me celebrating. “I know,” I say softly. “It’s just a lot to take in. I have a big day tomorrow, and I think I’m just tired.”